Portentum
by ArlenSayos
Summary: AU: Trowa, the prince of Satulurain, longs for a life free of duty and affliction. Quatre, a noble long ago stripped of his rank and inheritance, has been reduced to a servant in his stepmother's household. Both long to be free. 3x4
1. Portentum Prologue

_Title:_ Portentum

_Author: _ArlenSayos

_Disclaimers:_ I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters in it

_Story Focus: _Quatre and Trowa

_Story Pairings:_ 3x4, 1xR, 2xH, 5xM and many more in the near future

_Chapter Pairings:_ None

_Story Warnings:_ Both yaoi and hetero relationships

_Chapter Warnings:_ Implication of violence

_AN: _I really think this is too long to be a prologue, but I don't want to call it a chapter since no plot advances are made. This page of writing really just serves as a summary of the characters backgrounds and platform for the story to build on, so despite its length this is just the introduction to my story.

Though my Latin is absolutely horrid (meaning: I know diddlysquat about the language and have to look anything loosely related to it up on internet) I _believe_ 'Portentum' means 'excellent story'… or something relatively close to that, anyway. Hopefully you'll understand why later on. If I'm wrong, please don't correct me or urge me to change the title; its going to stick, right or wrong.

Please enjoy!

-Prologue-

_AU: Trowa, the prince of Satulurain, longs for a life free of duty and affliction. Quatre, a noble long ago stripped of his rank and inheritance, has been reduced to a servant in his stepmother's household. Both long to be free, but have strayed down different paths to achieve their goals. Will finding each other help the two attain theirdreams and more? _

_Trowa _

Once upon a time, in the far away land of Satulurain, there existed a great, vibrant city; Kumania. It was ruled by the righteous and just king, Trevet Bloom. Under his rule, the people lived in utter and unquestionable bliss, for King Trevet was a pacifist; a blessing of a monarch during an age where bordering countries had succumbed to fighting amongst themselves for both land and wealth. They were delightfully entranced by the travesty that so long as Trevet was the lord and master of Satulurain woods, waters and fields the threat of homes and families being forever damaged by the violence of war was impossible. Those that said otherwise were thoroughly looked down upon by their neighbors, for all of Satulurain held their King in high regard.

What reason did they have to think ill of him? King Trevet was as kind as he was merciful and a uniquely brilliant scholar. Yes, he collected taxes from the people, but what he accumulated from the common peasant was small, and little of the minute fortune was destined to stay in his royal treasury anyway. He poured his riches into programs that granted his people free education for those who weren't like the few fortunate enough to be endowed with families rich enough to supply them with a tutor. He also crafted housing for those that had no place to go and fed those that hadn't the means to feed themselves.

Yes, King Trevet was loved by nobility, commoner, and street urchin alike, but none cared more for the exalted lord then his loving family. King Trevet had married only once, and the bride had been the beautiful, fiery haired rose Lady Latanya of Felton. She was his queen, his companion, and greatest alley in his struggle to rid Satulurain of all sorrow.

Shortly after exchanging vows during a wedding ceremony that all were invited to attend, the happily wed couple instantly realized that they wished to be parents. Thus, their lovely daughter Catherine came into existence. The princess of the kingdom had inherited her mother's ravishing locks of red hair and took from her father his all knowing, icy blue eyes. The Lady Catherine grew into a beautiful child, free from the spoils normally granted to noble children. Her parents wanted her to be free from the ignorance that was normally integrated into the upper-class populace so that she would one day bloom into a stunningly wise and beautiful woman.

As such, the Princess developed a sharp mind and eye for detail. She was also very compassionate about tending to the needs of those less fortunate then herself. Apple of her parents' eye, Catherine was tenderly raised by both king and queen. It was through them that she came to understand the necessity of peace in an age of war at a very young age.

When the young princess turned thirteen, Queen Latanya gave birth to her second child. The naming of the child was a complicated issue. Both mother and father wished to give their son the name of the great Ocean God Triton; a name vastly suitable for one who would later succeed the thrown. Catherine, however, thought differently. In her eyes, Triton was a name meant for a war ruler; unfit for someone who was to become the next pacifist king of Satulurain. Holding her baby brother lovingly in her arms, the young princess bestowed upon him the name Trowa, which came across as very whimsical name to both the King and Queen. However, in a sense it did suit their son. Trowa was a name that was commonly associated with the number 'three', and was to be the third Bloom to inherit the throne when he came of age.

Being the one to name the baby prince filled Catherine with an emotion that only an elder sibling could truly contribute from; a sense of duty. She was Trowa's elder sibling, and as such had an obligation to protect him. This was a duty she would never trifle with; the fiery haired beauty decided then and there that no one would ever threaten her sweet little brother. If they dared to, they would have to deal with her first, and in time, one would discover that the Lady Catherine was not someone you would come out of a quarrel with unscathed.

The royal family lived in happiness until their son reached the age of six. With their neighbors, the oriental Kingdom of Dracobrand and the grand Kingdom of Avisaithne, threatening to invade and spread their war to Satulurain lands, peace conferences between the countries became more and more of a necessity in the eyes of King Trevet. The Sanq Kingdom bordering Dracobrand had already suffered the horrors of an assassination that stole from them the lives of King and Queen Peacecraft. The only survivor of the attack had been their two young children, Prince Milliardo and Princess Relena. As a result, Milliardo was now King of the Sanq Kingdom, at the mere age of fifteen; Trevet, ironically, vowed that he would die before seeing his son put through a similar situation.

Satulurain agreed to meet with the other three countries to discuss peace. Trevet had, at first, decided to go alone, not wanting to endanger the lives of both his wife and children; but Latanya and Catherine had begged and pleaded to stay by his side. The poor king couldn't even look to his son Trowa for help; he was as enthusiastic about the trip as his wife and daughter.

The entire royal family was to travel to the conference, hosted in Kumania, by means of the royal carriage, but the even observant Catherine felt as though something were terribly wrong. A vision of fields ablaze and buildings asunder passed through her mind; it was an omen of terrible things that she knew would come to pass, and soon.

Catherine told her parents of her foreboding premonitions and begged them not to attend the conference, but King Tevet merely though his daughter ill for believing that he could ignore the presence of their important guests due of a mere suspicion. He ordered her to stay in the care of her nanny, Margaret, and be treated by the family doctor as soon as possible. Not wanting to leave her husband's side despite her daughter's disturbing vision of a dastardly act destined to be committed against her husband, Latanya entrusted Trowa to Margaret as well, claiming that he had caught a fever and was in no condition to be outside of the castle. She went to her husband, believing that it was her duty to be by his side, even if death were to be the consequence of her actions.

The King and Queen weren't fortunate enough to learn that they had spared their children from a terrible fate that day. Another assassination attempt had occurred, and they were its prime targets. A cart ablaze, run only by a terrified horse, headed blindly for the King and Queen's royal carriage in a mad daze as it futilely attempted to escape the fire. At first no one was immediately worried, but as the wild cart collided with the royal carriage, notice of the foreign fire powder aboard became recognized.

Upon collision, both wooden transportation vehicles were torn apart, and all within proximity of the crash were killed. The bodies of King and Queen Bloom were never recovered, as they had been chard to soot long before the fire had finally been dowsed. The neighboring royal carriages also caught ablaze, but none had been near enough to the disaster to receive any injuries. The King and Queen of Dracobrand, Avisaithne, and the newly appointed King Milliardo Peacecraft of Sanq all escaped their carriages, but could do little nothing to save the king or queen who died instantly after the explosion.

Not wanting the efforts of their rulers to be in vein, the people of Satulurain insisted that the meetings proceed in the safety of the castle. Upon entering the building the royals discovered Princess Catherine crying in the halls of the castle, holding an equally distressed Prince Trowa to her chest as she wailed out of pure sorrow and anguish. At this moment, one could say that Catherine was responsible for the end of the Great War; for it was her tears that made the royals realize that all those who lost family mourned the dead, and that such sorrow could not be cured by richer landscapes or high mountains of gold won by war and death. They settled their past digressions and ended the fighting for good.

They decided that the royal families would meet four times a year at each change in the season in order to keep their morals of peace alive. An investigation was placed into the cause of the fire that destroyed Satulurain's king and queen, and Lord Winner of Anila was sentenced to death after they discovered that the imported gunpowder could only have come from his warehouse. Shortly after his hanging, however, a flaw in their detective work was discovered.

Abra Winner was a pacifist, and although that could have been a ploy to earn the countries trust, he had many children (thirty, to be exact) and the risk of sending his entire family to the poor house due to an act of treason seemed like a gamble the wise Winner would not make. Thus, persecutors quickly regretted sentencing the man to death with so little evidence backing their claims.

With further investigation they soon learned that Abra never personally handled any of his affairs. He was a wealthy man with a business to run and a family to spend time with; he left management of the warehouse to the servants that normally did all the backbreaking labor in his stead. They discovered that only one man was in possession of the key to the warehouse; Yuda, a high ranking worker in Abra's business. After capturing and interrogating the man, he quickly confirmed their suspicions of his terrorist actions by admitting to their claims in a state of madness and hysterics. He was quickly sentenced to death and peace seemed to be restored to Satulurain.

Catherine, being vastly mature for her age and beyond her years in wisdom, would assume rule of the kingdom until her brother came of age. However, fearing that another massacre of the royal family, a strict law was instigated; Trowa had to be eighteen and happily wed before he succeeded the thrown; this was to ensure that he produced an heir, making that the future of the royal Bloom line was ensured. If he failed to do as the law commanded, right to rule would slip from his grasp and be bestowed upon the next rightful ruler, Mariemaia Barton, formally Mariemaia Khushrenada. After the loss of her father and mother to illness, she was put in the care of her grandfather, Dekim Barton.

However, the Lady Catherine was no fool and knew that if her brother failed to rule, it wouldn't be Mariemaia taking over; she was a puppet controlled by Dekim, a greedy man that would most likely lead the land to ruin if he were even allowed the smallest leakage of power. It was with this knowledge that the fiery haired girl tried to give Trowa the initiative to follow the law and protect the land their mother and father died to preserve.

As the young prince grew, he found himself becoming more and more restrained by the duties that came with royal birth. Though the prince loved his sister dearly and knew that she was a blessing to all of Satulurain, he was also aware of the fact that he was nothing like her at all (and he certainly did not appreciate her preaching of marriage when she was at the ripe old age of thirty one and still husbandless).

Trowa was different from Catherine in that he had not been torn from a noble lifestyle like her. He lived a spoiled and pampered life because his parents hadn't been present to stop him from entering a world of snobbery like they had for Catherine.

The prince was handsome even before reaching manhood, with his father's blonde-brown hair and mother's stunning emerald eyes, kind to those that were fortunate enough to get in his good graces and earn his trust, and so intelligent that the country marveled and how close his intellect resembled his father's. However, for every good point of his, Trowa had an equal, far more noticeable, fault.

He was every bit as whimsical as his name, for starters. Trowa was an oddity even amongst nobles. He had an immense dislike for his status in life despite the fact that he couldn't possibly function at all without finely cooked meals, a soft, feather stuffed bed, and servants to wait on his every whim and command. He believed that his birthright to care for people that had the primal instincts to live without an overseeing monarch telling them what and whatnot to do was no birthright at all and that their order for him to marry so that he could make sons and daughters to rekindle the family line was a cruel curse that they had no right to place upon him.

In fact, if Catherine hadn't threatened to nail him to a wall and throw darts at him until he resembled a porcupine, spike for spike, if he ever thought about passing the right to rule onto Mariemaia Barton and her grandfather, Trowa would have decided long ago to simply keep the luxury of royal living and pass on all his duties to someone who actually _wanted_ them.

Instead, Trowa tried to enjoy what he had dubbed his 'years of freedom'. No one really knew what the prince did during these years, for he wasn't the sort to share his thoughts with anyone other then Catherine (whom he lovingly called Cathy). Another fault of Trowa's; his unwillingness to associated with others was the spawn of disrespect for all but his sibling, who he quite admired for her selflessness… selflessness that he knew he'd never be able to duplicate. In short, Trowa only cared about two people in all of Satulurain; Himself and Cathy. Everyone else was just using him for his title. Men wished to meet Trowa to get in his good graces so that after he became king he would send royal gifts their way; ones that would raise their prestige and status greatly. Woman flirted with him for two reasons; the first being that he was an absolutely beautiful sight to behold and the second being that seducing him meant a possibility at one day becoming queen.

How he loved Cathy's cold blue eyes that could beat off the unworthy pursuers of his affection as well as a mettle club would, were it held menacingly above their delicate, empty heads. The Princess was looking out for Trowa in more ways then one; she was ensuring that his land remained unspoiled for his succession while seeing to it that Trowa didn't commit himself to someone that wasn't worthy of becoming queen.

His hatred of court woman had not been made obvious because of his normally blank, uncaring, and almost bratty mask that he wore at all times; it was hard to believe that one as 'aloof' as he could despise anyone at all. However, whenever Trowa spoke to a court damsel, his lines were always condescending and short. Unfortunately, his cold manner of speaking did little to turn them off; if anything, it simply increased their giddiness tenfold. In time, Trowa realized there were very few woman he could respect… the few being Catherine, the Lady Dorothy Catalonia, and a young girl named Hilde.

Dorothy was an interesting woman who loved to taunt him whenever she caught him with his mask down, moping about his royal predicament, but she was always there to get him out of a pinch when need for her aid and knowledge arose. For a noble, she possessed an amazing array of philosophical, scientific, and common knowledge that even Trowa, dubbed one of the brightest in all of Satulurain, did no possess. She was also an excellent swordswoman and Cathy had confided in him that it was Dorothy who had shown her how to defend herself with throwing daggers and dueling knives.

Trowa was taught how to use the sword by the master of the Satulurain's Royal Knights, Heero Yuy, adopted son of the great and widely spoken of Sword Master, Odin Lowe. Heero was one of the few people that Trowa respected, for Heero was like an immensely aggressive version of himself. Heero was powerful, strong, and knew it. One could say he possessed the confidence Trowa lacked. Put the two together and one would immediately see Heero as an embodiment of strength and courage while Trowa symbolized knowledge and unbreakable serenity. However, they were the same in that they did not care much for petty conversation and trusted in each other's abilities and opinions. It was the similarities that caused to two to become friends over the years. They knew they could speak to each other whenever a good listener was needed.

Hilde was Trowa's childhood friend and daughter of his old nanny, Margaret. Always friendly and caring, Trowa had dubbed Hilde a worrywart on a number of occasions (these occasions usually involved him, Heero, and permission from his sister to explore the landscape). Born and raised in the castle of Satulurain, Hilde knew all about the assassination of Trowa's parents and couldn't help feeling terribly worried for his safety whenever he took to leaving the castle, even if he would be in the company of a knight as well trained as Heero. In the end, however, she would always wind up placing her confidence in Heero and let the two go without quarrel; she'd even pack them a lunch if she feared they wouldn't be arriving home anytime soon.

If there was any girl in the kingdom Trowa would love to take as he wife, it was Hilde, but he knew she was viewed as little more then a scullery maid in the eyes of many and that this choice of his would be turned down by all, even Cathy who cared for Hilde like a sister. Plus, the thought of having children with the girl wasn't one of immense appeal to the prince. Such… 'interactions'… were meant to be held between a _different_ sort of friends, not the type him and Hilde were. He was so eager to marry someone that possessed common sense that he had even brought the idea of marriage up with Dorothy, but the blonde simply laughed in his face and said that she'd sooner die then be used as his scapegoat.

It was around this time, when Trowa acknowledged that his choices were _very_ limited. That being the case, he sought out Heero's advice. It did not take long for the prince to find the sword master; he was in the library, hidden amongst the shelves, playing a game of chess against Hilde and dominating the board. Trowa smiled lightly; he wouldn't have expected anything else.

"Yes?" the stoic, brown haired knight asked, brows coming together as he thought over his next move. Hilde, though losing, seemed a lot calmer about the game then her opponent.

"Come to share your troubles with us again I see." she turned around, presenting Trowa with a pleasant smile while resting back in her chair. "Alright, what have you been moping about this time?"

"The same old plight." Trowa replied in a sort of laugh, closing his eyes as he relaxed into a chair near the window, opened to allow some fresh air into the otherwise musty library. "Though I must say, the damsels are certainly making it a lot more difficult then normal. It's taxing."

"Pfft." Hilde rolled her eyes and moved her queen across the board, taking down one of Heero's knights in the process. This move was done more to ruffle the fighter's feathers then anything else; the knight was one of Heero's favorite chess pieces, for obvious reasons. Still, he showed no signs of being angered by the move. "Yes, poor you, having every girl in the kingdom fall at your feet. Oh the travesties of being loved-HEY!"

Hilde had returned her attention to the board just in time to witness Heero's _pawn_ take down her _queen_. "How did I miss that?" she asked herself, slightly embarrassed by the move.

"By forgetting that even the weakest piece can be a threat if placed in the proper position?" Heero offered calmly, eyes never leaving the board.

Not at all put out by the off topic banter of his friends, Trowa continued. "Hilde, you will never understand what it's like being a shell." He sighed, frowning noticeably. "It would be false modesty to claim that I wasn't… handsome, and though I'm sure that contributes to the ladies' desires, I know that in the end they're all only after my title, not me. My looks are just a nice accessory to the overall package."

Once again, the kitchen maid rolled her eyes. "I think I would have preferred false modesty to hearing you talk about how good looking you are…" Heero cleared his throat, a polite way of telling Hilde that it was her turn, and one move later she was once again addressing Trowa's problem. "But this isn't really about the court flowers, is it?" she asked, raising a thin black eyebrow at him questioningly. "The real problem is you not wanting to rule the Kingdom of Satulurain."

"To an extent, yes." Trowa sighed, delicately running a hand through his bangs before he continued. "The more aggravating of the two cases is the marriage issue, but in the long run I believe my real problem is the fact that I'm a selfish bastard that only cares about running his own life, not everyone in the kingdom's." These words work spoken with both ease and calm, for Trowa never had been one for keeping traits of his character hidden from his friends. His mask of 'perfection' was only worn when in the company of those he could not let down his barriers for.

"Trowa, this land needs a ruler." Hilde started, brows furrowed. "Don't get me wrong, Lady Catherine is a caring, passionate leader, but she's a woman." The dark haired girl was now smiling bitterly. "Let's face it, these days we don't command the same respect you males do. She'll only last so long, Your Highness. As a brother, shouldn't you put some of her troubles to rest by accepting your duties without question?"

"Yes, I should," Trowa replied, down casting his eyes, "but that is only because the court bound me unfairly to a set of rules the common man is free of. Yes, they try to pay retribution for it by acquitting me with gold and servants," he then turned his serious green eyes to his friends, who were now both paying serious attention to his plight, "but only a fool would think that freedom could be so easily replaced with riches. My sister, the Lady Catherine, knows how to contribute to her duties, both as a sister and caretaker for the people. That being said, I believe she would make a far better Queen then I a King, and still…"

Trowa sighed and rose to his feet so that he could gaze out the window and take in view of the countryside, where both nobles and peasants lived free from the constraints of royal duty. "The people must turn their backs to me again! If I do not marry a lady of noble birth, that with eventually bare me a child and heir, my thrown is passed to Mariemaia, which would be fine if not for Cathy." Closing his eyes, not wanting to look upon a freedom that he'd never be able to experience for a moment longer, Trowa turned from the window. "As a prince, it is said that I am to be denied nothing, yet how can they keep from me what I desire most." For not the first time in his life, Trowa looked upon his friends with lost eyes. "What do I do?"

"Do as your heart tells you." Shocked, both Trowa and Hilde focused on Heero, who silently muttered 'checkmate' as his friends viewed him in awe. Such heartfelt advice was seldom heard from the knight, and he had spoken with such noticeable conviction that Trowa knew he was meant to take this advice to heart.

"How can I do that," Trowa asked carefully, knowing that going against one of Heero's morals, though not taboo, was disrespectful, "when I feel that even my own heart is bound by the law and rule of this kingdom?"

This time it was Hilde's turn to give her insight to the situation. "Simple." She smiled devilishly while her dark blue eyes narrowed with mischief. "Break the rules." Trowa frowned, knowing what Catherine would do to him if he was ever discovered going against her wishes. He was about to voice his concerns when Hilde interrupted, "What's the point in being royalty if you can't do whatever the hell you wish? Escape the castle and enjoy life, and _freedom_, while you're still capable!"

While Trowa pondered on this new philosophy, Heero began speaking again. "No one can be deprived of freedom, Trowa." He started, folding his arms over his chest while eyeing his friend seriously. "Everyone has a right to it. You just need the eyes to see it to experience it. Your birthday is four months away. That's four potential months of freedom if you pay no mind to the ritual visit of Dracobrand, Avisaithne and Sanq. What rules you chose to disobey or follow in that time is entirely up to you, but caution. Do not let this opportunity to live for yourself slip away."

It took only a moment for Trowa's brain to mull over what his friends were saying before he realized he had been foolish not to have reached their conclusions on his own. Smiling slightly, he chuckled under his breath. "I suppose… I haven't been living the way I wanted to these past year, have I?" The prince didn't need his friends' confirmation to know that the weight of his future had been keeping him in check without his knowledge. "My own ignorance saddens me." After letting out a relieved sigh, Trowa slumped back into the comforts the stone wall behind him had to provide. "I think you two are really going to regret making a rebel out of me."

At that proclamation, Hilde let out an excited squeak and clapped her hands. Heero smirked and closed his eyes, glad that his friend had soaked up their advice like a sponge. "So, Prince Trowa, does your heart wish to experience today?"

Trowa returned the smirk, closing his eyes as well. "I thought the three of us might take a horse ride into the countryside while being pursued by the royal guards, who will most likely notice our disappearance moments after our departure from the castle."

"Me?" Hilde asked meekly, excitement faltering for a moment. "You want me to come with you two?" The prospect of the idea was a new one to her; the two boys normally expected her to be a mother hen and see to their preparations so that they did not find themselves hurt on hungry outside the castle walls. "You don't mind? I thought this was some sort of male bonding tradition for you two."

"Well, today we're leaving without Lady Catherine's consent, so we can't very well leave you behind for her to barrage with questions of our whereabouts, can we?" Trowa asked smoothly. Both he and Hilde knew that an angry Cathy was not someone you wanted to mess with.

"It's your day off today," Heero added, small smile playing on his lips. "Don't you want to spend it in our fine company?"

"Pfft." Hilde rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "I dare say I'll be the envy of every girl in the country!" The line, though meant to be sarcastic, was probably true. Very few women in the castle were granted the privilege basking in the presence of both handsome men. "I'll pack us a picnic basket, you two ready the horses."

Trowa and Heero obeyed Hilde's orders, and as soon as she returned from the kitchen with a large woven basket of goodies they were on their way, and as predicted, Catherine was quick to notice the absence of her brother and hastily assembled the royal guard.

"Milady Catherine, your wishes?" The captain asked, saluting the princess before bending down in a deep bow. The red haired princess hesitated before giving them their orders. She did feel for Trowa, that was why she did allow her brother to leave the castle on occasion, but disappearing without a word was not something she was willing to tolerate. _Then again, it's quite possible that my strictness was the cause if his sudden urge to rebel, wasn't it?_ The princess thought to herself.

Catherine knew that the laws she had allowed to be placed upon the Bloom Family were especially hard on Trowa, but he was a prince of Satulurain and thus had to follow his role in society maturely and appropriately. _I cannot allow an escapade like this to occur a second time; showing mercy would give him the impression that he can get away with this sort of behavior._

"Captain." The princess said at last, turning her light blue eyes to the man before her. "Prince Trowa has disappeared from the castle. Find him and escort him, and any palace hands in his company, back to the castle as soon as possible. Then bring him to me."

The captain saluted the princess a second time, a sign that he understood her orders, before leading his men out of the thrown room. Upon his leave, Catherine sighed and collapsed into her chair. _It's hard… to be a responsible sister without coming across as the 'bad guy' all the time… Trowa, don't hate me._

"Problems, Lady Catherine?"

The princess resisted the urge to send an immediate glare in the man's direction before she took to straightening her posture as calmly as possible. "Lord Dekim, an unexpected surprise." _I'd die before calling it pleasant…_ "Problems, perhaps, but concerns of mine are no quarry of yours, so it would do you good to take no notice." At that, she turned her blue eyes upon the aged and withered man before her.

Dekim swallowed hard, but continued to stand tall while appearing as though Catherine's cold gaze did not bother him. The princess's eyes were a true wonder; so beautiful, but cold; sharing a glance with her was like looking into the eyes of an ice goddess; a frozen beauty only made warm by the fiery color of her curly hair.

"As you wish, Milady, but might I make a minor suggestion?" Catherine didn't bother with replying; she knew all to well that Dekim would say whatever the hell he wanted, no matter her answer. "Keep you brother under lock and key or pass right to the thrown onto someone who _won't_ run away from their birthright."

"Your advice has been noted, Lord Dekim." Catherine replied, nodding her head a fraction of an inch without breaking the man's eye contact. "However, I find it is my duty to point out that succession to the thrown is no birthright of Mariemaia's; being second in line, she can't even be regarded as 'lucky', really. Trowa will, without a doubt, become king, and when he does, all quarters of the kingdom belong to him. Satulurain is not destined to be diced up and split between nobility like scraps of meat, Lord Dekim. Mariemaia will receive nothing, and thus, she is little more then a parentless child cursed to live in the world of ignorance which money and pampering have provided her with."

"My lovely lady," Dekim started, laughing lightly as he calmly approached the exit of the thrown room, "You speak so highly of your brother, and for good reason; he's handsome, intelligent, amazingly articulate, even for one blessed to live in our society, but believe me when I say that his actions today are a sign that he isn't as complying to become ruler of this kingdom as you so boldly claim. Till another time, young princess." With that, and an overly smug smirk, Dekim exited the thrown room.

Catherine waited until the man was completely out of sight before she allowed her confident exterior to crumple and her posture to once again slacken. The truth was, Dekim was right. Trowa _didn't_ want to become king, and his runaway scheme had now made that apparent in the eyes of many.

In order to protect her brother and the kingdom, Catherine knew that she would now have to take extra precautions to ensure that all went as planned. _If only Trowa would grow up and accept his fate._ She thought, rising to her feet. _If he is incapable of making decisions that are in the best interest of the country, not himself, then…_

Mind made up, Catherine decided that she would need to have a word with the supreme council about a rewrite in Satulurain's laws…

_Quatre _

Abra Winner had never been a very fortunate man. Granted, he was immensely wealthy, surrounded by friends and family, and highly respected by the people because of his show of kindness in the form of donations to various charities, but luck in the area of family simply wasn't one of his strong points. His misfortune lay in his inability to find a lasting wife.

The first bride he had taken, Brianna, bore him three lovely daughters, whom they dubbed Carese, Monett and Francis, Carese being the eldest. By the time Carese was fourteen Brianna had taken ill and died of fever.

A year later, after Carese fell in love and was wed to a nobleman in a distant town, Abra was ready to remarry. This time his love was a foreign noble woman with lush black hair and rich brown eyes named Chai. She gave birth to five daughters, Claudia, Angelina, Angelica, Roane and Genevieve. Do to religious disagreements, Chai left her husband shortly after giving birth to Abra's youngest daughter, Roane.

By the time Abra married a third time, his daughters, Monett, Francis, the twins, Angelica and Angelina, and Claudia had found husbands and strayed from their home to live merrily with their lovers so that they too could start families of their own. This time the woman was a brown haired beauty named Anna. Wanting a large family now that most of Abra's previous children had left home, Anna bore her husband five more daughters; Hannah, Jubilee, Emeraldas, Dianna and Iria. She died shortly afterwards from exhaustion and malnutrition.

Once again time passed, and eventually all of Abra's daughters had left home to make families of their own. All but one remained; the youngest, Iria. She stayed behind to see to it that her father was well taken care of.

Eventually, with the loving company of his daughter, Abra found it in him to give marriage another go. This time, his heart was captured by the beautiful blonde foreign court flower, Catherine. Widow from a previous marriage, Catherine invited her four lovely daughters, Veronica, Alma, Eliza and Liana, to live with her and her new husband.

These girls were far older then the majority of Abra's children, and after a year of living with their now much beloved father, they too left home to marry their respective suitors.

Abra and Catherine continued to live their lives happily, accompanied only by Iria, who preferred to stay in the company of her parents then marry, for a very long time. However, they eventually decided that they wanted a child of their own.

Months later, Catherine had given birth to Abra's first son. Unfortunately, complications during the birth of their child made it impossible for Catherine to survive labor. Heartbroken that his most loved wife was to leave him after giving birth to their child, Abra allowed Catherine to name the boy with her last breath.

Smiling as brightly as she could in her exhausted state, the beautiful woman spoke the name 'Quatre' after herself, for Catherine's name in her native tongue was 'Quatrine'. This way, even though she was gone in body, she could continue to love and watch over her husband and children through Quatre.

Baby Quatre quickly became Abra's pride and joy. With Iria, the three lived in happiness for a good six years.

Though Abra was an important man in many countries, Quatre had never once felt alone when he left on a business trip. He and his sisters had always been very close to one another. He wrote them every day and was very much loved by Iria, who made it her duty to watch and play with her youngest sibling whenever she could. When Abra did return home, he was always greeted by loving hugs and kisses from the pair. It was Abra's love for family that caused him to hire so many people to manage his estate when he was at home. Not wanting to care for his business when he was with his children, the elder Winner normally allowed others to tend to affairs when he was at home.

When Quatre reached the age of five, he was the mirror image of a heavenly cherub. His flaxen hair was a shade of blonde that put blocks of pure gold to shame and his eyes, though deep blue in color, had a noticeable glow to them; they were like pools of ocean water brightened solely by the light of the sun. His skin was pale, despite the many hours he spent playing outside with his sister Iria, but his cheeks were always rosy, glowing with happiness.

However, Abra never thought his children would ever be able to experience true happiness, for his company disallowed him to stay home for long periods of time, so the children lacked the loving care of a parent. He brought his concerns to the attention of his children multiple times, but so pure of the heart were they that his youngest children felt their dear father's concern for them instantly and convinced him that his care was all they needed to be happy. Iria and Quatre greatly impressed Abra with their selfless confessions, and he then made it his duty as a father to bring his children gifts from each of his travels. Though both children wanted little more then their fathers safe return, they were always thoroughly pleased and surprised by his gifts.

On one occasion, he brought Iria back a lovely white silk gown from the oriental designers of Dracobrand, and Quatre a finely crafted violin from Avisaithne. These two, among all the gifts, were by far the children's favorites. Quatre proved to be a master at playing the instrument, even at a very young age. While he practiced, Iria would put on her favorite dress and dance along to all the upbeat, joyous melodies her brother was able to create. This was one of their favorite pastimes.

Then one day their father brought them back a most peculiar, but truly wonderful gift. While away on a business trip in Sanq, he had fallen in love with a beautiful, brown haired woman named Orinda Une. Both children treated their mother with respect, but Quatre never once considered her to be his true mother; to him, that position belonged solely to the woman that gave up her life to give birth to him, Catherine, and no one else. She was his guardian angel and strength in life; the person that made him the happy, kind child he was today.

But a mother was not the only thing the children received when their father married Orinda, or rather, Lady Une (she preferred to be known by her surname), they were also granted two new siblings, Middie, a withdrawn, blonde haired girl with dark, golden brown eyes, and Serenity, a cocky, brown haired girl with equally dark eyes. Both new siblings were very dignified, probably due to their mother's influence, and preferred their own company to spending time with their new siblings, but overall, they made a fairly happy family.

For Lady Une, though strict, never once laid a hand on any of her children; she was a very sweet woman who spoke out against violence; a real pacifist of Sanq. There was only one thing Quatre did dislike about the woman, and that was that she found Abra's family too large for her liking. She insisted that they do away with Iria. Lady Une was a tradition woman and thought that, at the age of eighteen, her stepdaughter should have been married, and since she was still single and living off of her parents it was her job to find the girl a suitable husband.

Abra did not want to force his child into a commitment she wasn't ready for, but his ever loving Iria was ready to marry if it would benefit the family's happiness. Iria was the only one of his daughters to have an arranged marriage, but the elder Winner had approved of the fine gentleman himself and thus could not complain with his wife's choice. After the marriage, Abra was immediately called away from his home to do business in Kumania. Kissing his daughters, sonand wife goodbye, Abra left home.

The very next day, Iria was to leave what had been her home for the past eighteen years, and her most heartfelt goodbye was to her little brother Quatre. The teary fair-haired boy clung to his favorite sibling, begging her to take him with him, for life without her, to Quatre, was more then he could bear.

"Do not worry, little prince," she had said, smiling sweetly while brushing tears from Quatre's angelic face, "Mother Catherine will watch over you in my stead, you know this!" she placed a hand to his heart, and placed a kiss atop his head. "She's right here, and so am I and all your other sisters as well! Whenever you feel lonely, don't cry, wishing I was beside you, know that she and everyone else are here, walking in stride with you, experiencing the world through you, Quatre."

The golden haired boy nodded his head, and loosened his hold around his sister's waist, knowing that she was right, but that he'd still feel a terrible emptiness inside of him when she was gone. "Promise to write me." He said through sharp intakes of breath as he tried to get his emotions under control. "Once a month, too. Even if I don't reply, I want to know at least you're all right."

Iria initial reaction was a look of surprise, and for a moment Quatre thought his request was going to be denied, but soon Iria was running a hand through his hair, laughing joyously. It made her happy that Quatre's immediate concern was her wellbeing in a new home and not filling the void he would feel after her departure. "If that is your wish, little brother, it shall be done. I'll write you once a month at least, no matter what!"

Those words instantly made Quatre feel a great deal better, as though a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I'll miss you terribly." He said, giving her once last hug."

Iria chuckled optimistically before returning the embrace, "I'll miss you terribly as well, Quatre. Be good for Mother Une, she's your caretaker until father returns, after all. But don't worry…" she gave Quatre a look that made the boy feel a little uneasy inside, but soon she had raked a hand through his hair, messing it up awfully, "you can be a little monster when father gets back."

The two shared a laugh, knowing that this sibling interaction was destined to be their last for a long, long time to come. Quatre hated it when his hair was jostled, and Iria new it. Though adventurous and clumsy almost to a fault, the blonde took pride in dressing to fit his station in life, and messy hair was one of his pet peeves.

After giving Iria her goodbye kiss on the cheek, Quatre's most beloved sister left, leaving her young brother with Lady Une, Middy and Serenity. She was not worried, for she was sure her father would return, and all would be as it was before her departure, but she was wrong. When Quatre returned to his room that night, he found that Catherine had left her favorite dress behind. Resting on a pillow near it was a letter that simply read:

_For you to remember me by._

_Love always,_

_Your sister, Iria_

The day Abra arrived in Kumania was the day of King Trevet and Queen Latanya's assassination. Their deaths had been so swift that no one had been present to handle the angry and emotional mob of people who wanted revenge for the deaths of their monarchs. In frenzy, the people blamed the assassination on Abra Winner, for who else in the kingdom possessed a shipping company that stocked firepower? He was hung without a trial, and by the time the real authorities had arrived and discovered the real perpetratorof the crime, Quatre had already lost his father. The state tried to compensate the Winner Family for their loss, but no amount of money or halfhearted apologies could replace what the young boy had lost.

Alone, without any real family for the first time in his life, Quatre relied solely on the memory of his birthmother for support, but he soon found that the world was a cruel place and that a memory alonewas not enough to sustain his once happy life. Lady Une, perhaps driven mad by the horrifying loss of her husband, shunned Quatre and treated him lower then dirt, perhapsbecause the boy symbolized all the women his father had once been with before he left Une alone in the world. In any case, shebelieved that Abra owed her a big debt; a debt Quatre would now have to pay in his stead. Middie and Serenity, who never had been very fond of their new brother, didn't even bat an eyelash when their mother banished him to the basement of their estate to live the darkened life of a servant.

Not once did the boy cry in protest of his cruel treatment, for as long as he knew that he carried the love of his dear mother and sisters with him, he knew that he could endure whatever his family thought at him. Thus, Quatre worked very hard for his family, he even graced them with angelic smiles despite their obvious contempt towards him. He did his chores to the best of his abilities, but his clumsiness often led him to error… error that did not go unpunished.

At first, when a shred of Lady Une's decency still remained, the beatings were quick and fairly painless, but as he grew older and the last of his keeper's decency had left her, the whip was used. Still, Quatre did everything he was ordered to completewith a smile on his face, and this gave him the respect of the servants that had stayed behind to care for the Winner Family even after their fortune had dwindled due to the closure of Abra's business.

However, as the Winner Family continued to lose money, Lady Une sold more and more of what her husband had left behind, even though Abra's Will had left most everything in Quatre's name. Regardless, the boy did not care, so long as he could keep his violin, Iria's dress, and a special necklace of silver wildflowers that had once belonged to his mother, he was content, for his memory of his father washis overwelming debt to the Lady Une.

Unfortunately, no amount of optimism could spare Quatre the hurt of losing some of his closest friends over the years. Rashid, Abdul, and many other house servants were sold in order to pay off taxes, for the Lady Une had no business of her own and, as a traditional noble, refused to enter the workforce for her children since it was 'improper' for a female.

If not for the Maxwell Church, which felt pity for the family that had once shown so much kindness to so many people, Quatre may not have been the optimistic teenager he was today. Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, friends of his father, had shown Quatre great amounts of kindness over the years that kept his heart from tainting and becoming bitter. Father Maxwell's adopted sons, Duo and Solo, worked the Winner farms twice week for no pay, and on days when the Lady Une and her sister's were acting particularly harsh, they would allow Quatre to stay overnight at the church.

Eventually Solo left Anila for work in Satulurain's capital city, Kumania, and Quatre and Duo were left alone to become great friends as the two matured into young men. They worked together and, both being very free spirited with a soft spot for the natural beauty of the environment, became explorers of the land. Unfortunately, as Quatre got older, his journey's outside became less and less frequent. In Lady Une's eyes, he appeared more and more like his mother every day, a woman whom she hated since, by this time, she had come to understand that Abra loved no one as much as Catherine. It was with this in mind that she kept stripping Quatre of his rights until he was virtually worthless.

Why did the lad not just run away? It wasn't because of lack of opportunity; it was because he had too much to leave behind. Though Duo had encouraged him to part with the town numerous times, Quatre was sure that he would just be caught, brought back to Lady Une, and punished. In addition, there was a chance that he'd never hear word from his sisters again.

After all, Iria had kept her promise to write as often as possible.

_Dearest Quatre,_

_Today was wonderful! The sky was a clear, calm blue, and there was not a cloud around to hide the magnificent radiance of the sun. In all truth, today's weather reminded me greatly of you; warm, pleasant and majestic, in a righteous sense._

Quatre smiled ironically, shaking his head in mild sadness. "If only you could see me now, Iria." He said to no one in particular, for he was currently being held in the empty confinements of his basement room. "You'd find that I'm not at all as exalted as I once was." Looking back now, Quatre couldn't remember if he ever _had_ been illustrious at all; he'd been working in servitude for so long, his birthright of nobility seemed to be little more then a fantasy; a realistic dream that meant little to him now. Presently, he was firmly under the impression that he'd be worthless until the day he died, to all but perhaps Iria, Duo, and the other ones delusional enough to see value in his life.

_I took my daughter, Sierra (you remember her, don't you?) out to the fields today. The way she ran about, arms flailing around, eyes to the sky and blonde hair playing in the warm winds, well, she reminded me very much of you._

_You were very young back then, always the adventurer, and I do hope that you've continued your explorations to this very day. Imagination should not be limited to the youth, after all._

Those days seemed so long ago now, but memory of their existence made Quatre feel warm inside; it was a happiness that only Iria's charming letters or Duo's infamous jokes could bring around in him.

_Lunar is a good man, and the way he smiles while watching our daughter happily playing outside… it supplies me with warmth that once only you and father were able to resonate within me, Quatre. I love him, without a doubt, and I love you too, dear brother, which is why I must confess that your lack of response to my letters worries me._

_Are you troubled? Have you simply no stories to tell your dear sister? Sometimes I imagine that you're severely hurt somewhere and I become so worried my husband sometimes fears I've become ill. Then I think to myself, 'if that were the case, why would he not get word to me of his injuries?' and this calms me. Have I been wrong all these years, Quatre?_

The blonde once again shook his head, feeling for his kind hearted sister who, after so many years without hearing from him, still had it in her to worry about his wellbeing.

_If so, please return a letter. It wouldn't kill you, would it?_

The boy laughed, feeling the obvious humor within the line. "Yes, it just might." He spoke under his breath, tightening his hold on the letter, for he knew it would end shortly.

_Yours truly, now and forever,_

_Iria_

Quatre folded the letter and quickly looked behind him. After confirming that the door upstairs was still closed, he stowed Iria's letter in a nick near the wall where he knew it'd be safe from discovery. Afterwards the blonde averted his attention to the floor above him.

Panic instantly washed over him as he heard movement from upstairs. Dusting off his shirt before raking a hand through his hair, Quatre headed for the stairs, knowing that someone would be coming to fetch him momentarily. From the volume of Lady Une's voice, he could tell that she was in a fairly foul mood this morning. If he wished to escape her wrath today he'd have to look as presentable as possible.

Just as he reached the top of the stairs, the old, worn down door that served as an entrance to what had been his living space for the past few years opened, revealing the Quatre a sight that caused his stomach to turn over in knots.

Quatre's breath hitched at the back of his throat and his eyes widened noticeably before he cautiously took a step backwards. "Good morning, Septum." Quatre greeted calmly despite his obvious discomfort around the man.

Septum merely smirked before closing the distance between them. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty, time for work." The blonde went to step around the one blocking his path but was stopped when Septum tightly grasped his arm. "But work without play is never very fun. Want to play with me first?" The dark haired man asked, brushing a coarse thumb across Quatre's bottom lip and pale cheek with his free hand. Fortunately, the return of Quatre's senses was quick and more then enough encouragement for him to break away from his obstacle.

"Lady Une will be very displeased if her breakfast is late." The Blonde spoke harshly through clenched teeth. This wasn't the first time Septum had made such an assault, but Quatre'd be damned if he'd allow it to put him on his stepmother's bad side. Septum chuckled cynically before departing, knowing that he would have many other attempts at the boy later on in the day.

Despite himself, Quatre couldn't help but to feel relieved at the man's departure. Though he had shown bravery to a degree that even Duo would have been proud of, the blonde couldn't help but to feel as though he had just ruined his own day.

Septum was in no way, shape or form liked by Lady Une; their sentiments for each other were quite the opposite. Perhaps it was her hatred for the man that led her to make the decision that she had, for Une, despite her feelings, had seen to it that Septum 'keeper'. After all, if she disliked the two of them it would only make sense in her mind to clump them together so that they would both stay out of her way.

Growing up, Quatre had mostly lived in fear of the other man; what sort of child wouldn't be traumatized by Septum's repeated come-ons? Yes, young Quatre was most fortunate to escape his childhood with his innocence mostly intact, but that didn't necessarily mean it was all 'sunshine and daisies' for him either.

Great were the consequences to the one that denied Septum anything; the blonde haired boy had been beaten repeated for his 'transgressions' whenever they occurred. Though his gruesome scars were still present to this day they had faded significantly over the years and had thus done little to ruin Quatre's considerably beautiful, pale skin.

It used to be that so long as he wore a shirt on his back no one could tell that his skin had been torn by whip on a weekly/monthly basis, but as he grew older, Quatre had become more determined to keep Septum's advances at bay by use of banter and fist. It worked effectively for a while, but Quatre soon learned that Septum had other ways of keeping the blonde under control; public humiliation.

He brought the beatings out into broad daylight where all could see. If Quatre dared to make a scene in public, of if Septum simply had nothing better to do, he would get his cronies to toss the boy to the ground where he was beaten and lashed until a reasonably sized crowd had gathered around them.

Quatre had the sympathy of some townsfolk on his side, but not all. While kind folk like the Maxwell family offered him sanctuary in the forms of medical aid, nourishment and friendship, the rest could do little more then look on, for Quatre was but a slave in their eyes and worth nothing.

Yet somehow, those small things meant more to him then freedom itself. He had good friends that cared about his safety and prayed for his health before turning themselves in for the night, he had a sister that loved him with all her heart and wouldn't abandon him, even though she certainly had a right to, and, as cliché as it may sound, a roof over his head and food on his table… when the Lady Une wasn't angered enough to take even that away from him.

Yes, times were hard, and yes, it would be so much easier to cry away his problems like so many others would have done, were they in the same position, but Quatre, as gentle and defenseless as he may have seemed, took great pride in the strength he did posses; strength of heart.

As he headed for the dining room were Lady Une was most likely awaiting his arrival, Quatre smiled to himself, feeling happier then he had in a long while.

_-to be continued- _

_AN: _So ends the prologue.

For the information for all who are interested, the 'satu' part of 'Satulurain' is a Japanese name for both boys and girls that basically means 'fairytale'. Kumania, its capital city, comes from 'Kumani', which means destiny and Anila, the Quatre's hometown, means 'children of the wind'. Considering how many children Abra had, I thought it was suitable. Why? Figure it out on your own, for I am too messed up to explain my logic on that one (though I will say this town's name was also influenced by Duo's whimsical nature. Yes, Duo, he does live there too).

Dracobrand… well, 'draco' obviously means dragon, 'brand' is that classification one uses when distinguishing one weapon from the other. Basically, I was trying to give one the impression that Dracobrand was the land of noble warriors; don't know if that worked though. Avisaithne means 'birds of fire'; I did this because I wanted this country to compliment Dracobrand (you know about the rivalry between phoenixes and dragons, don't you? )

Yes, I know Catherine's hair is really brown, but for this story, I wanted it to sort of match her attitude. She's always come across as a very fiery woman, to me. .

If you liked, please, please, please review! I don't see the point in writing more then a prologue if no one liked it enough to comment. :(

Till, chapter one then.

Arlen Sayos


	2. Portentum Chapter 1

_Title:_ Portentum

_Author: _ArlenSayos

_Disclaimers:_ I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters in it

_Story Focus: _Quatre and Trowa

_Story Pairings:_ 3x4, 1xR, 2xH, 5xM and many more in the near future

_Chapter Pairings:_ None

_Story Warnings:_ Both yaoi and hetero relationships

_Chapter Warnings:_ violence

_AN:_ This chapter was really long… I'm hoping that the others will be a lot shorter for my own sanity. Sorry it took me so long to update; after the first chapter I found myself face to face with writer's block, and when I finally did get my motivation running again I fell pray to a horrid throat illness… XD Urg.

Once again, place make me happy and keep the story going by reviewing!

* * *

-Portentum-

_Chapter One

* * *

_

Though Quatre certainly deserved the world's pity for his misfortunes he had never been the sort to rely on the aid of others. It was his belief that for someone to become a strong character with good, self-made morals they couldn't be dependant on those around them. If Quatre didn't take care of himself, then someone else would, and as soon as protection was granted to him he'd be labeled as 'weak' by people like Septum and Lady Une. He'd be a target for torment far worse then what he had so far endured.

Though such a commitment could be viewed as selfish by the few residents of the Winner household that didn't know Quatre very well, others who had witnessed the boy's strength and kindness first hand knew better. It was true that the ex-Winner heir did what he did for his own benefit, but as a result, he had helped many other servants under Lady Une's command as well.

You see, Quatre did what was asked of him, but only if it was 'decent'. If Septum sought to degrade the boy, he stood up for himself, even though he knew the whip was the punishment for 'intolerable' behavior. Still, he returned to his comrades on many occasions un-traumatized and smiling, which earned him a great deal of respect and admiration from those that had also experienced Septum's wrath first hand.

Then there were the incidents where Middy and Serenity would take to harassing the servant girls for one reason or another. Sometimes they tugged too hard on their hair while brushing it, other times it was because they had picked out the wrong color of garments for his stepsisters to wear, but the results were always the same; punishment by whip. These maids were usually very young, the daughters of woman that had been working under the Winner family since before Quatre was born, and as children they often sought the safety of an adult presence when threatened. Quatre, who was always smiling and pleasantly sweet to all, was the one these girls normally ran to for help, for he'd never hand them over to Septum to be beaten into submission. He would often take it upon himself to receive punishment in their stead.

Quatre always behaved very admirably for one so young; many servants looked up to him as a leader and his opinion was always regarded amongst those of his station with great consideration. Their esteem only broadened when Sally Po, a kitchen maid who had been working at the residence for as long as Quatre could recall, let slip that the blonde boy hadn't cried since the death of his father and leave of his sister. His stepmother and siblings were not ignorant of this; the mere fact that he was able to obtain respect from anyone, despite their efforts, caused their blood to boil. Still, constant defeat did nothing to squash their desire to see Quatre humiliated and worthless, so they always put a great deal of effort into making his life difficult, such as this morning.

Twice Serenity had run him back into the kitchen because the food he had produced forher was unsatisfactory. First it had been too cold, then too hot. Later on, when Quatre thought he had at last done a decent job, Middy announced that her eggs were too runny and sparse of salt, so he had to do her meal over as well. It was stressful, especially since the blonde was quite aware that the Winner fortune was dwindling terribly due to the spendthrift nature of his stepfamily and that sent back 'spoiled' food added to the problem, but he still did as asked without argue.

When breakfast had at last ended, Sally dismissed him from kitchen duty so that he could join the other servants in town. Quatre speedily got ready to leave, pulling on his boots before heading out the door before anything more could be asked of him. Just as he was about to exit the mansion someone spoke his name.

"Quatre." The blonde stopped in his tracks and sighed as quietly as possible. Showing any sign of displeasure was a great insult to Lady Une, and the boy wanted to get through the day unlashed. "You were most quiet this morning." she continued with mock concern in her voice. Still, Quatre played along.

"I only wish to please you, Lady Une, by dutifully obeying the word of your daughters without confrontation." He offered her an honest smile, but didn't dismiss her. Leaving before the woman was done talking was unheard of in the Winner house.

"I see." Une continued, raising a red lace fan to cover the lower portion of her face; Quatre guessed the gesture was more for appearance then ventilation, for he had found the day's morning temperature to be quite cool and pleasing. "Septum requests you go into town with him for groceries," she started, smiling after seeing Quatre's pleasant expression falter for a moment. "Lucky for you, my dear boy, the Maxwell family is loaning their cart to us. You'll be accompanied by their son and two other servants in Septum's charge. I believe the Maxwell boy already has the produce list. I'll be expecting you back on Winner land no later then 2 o'clock. From their, check our land borders." She paused now, glaring noticeably. "I hate it when the town folk trespass on _my_ territory. See to it that Winner land is vacant of all but servants and family. Understood?"

"Yes Milady." The blonde replied obediently, giving his head a slight nod. Lady Une raised a brow, suspicious of her stepson's obedience, as always, but said no more before departing from the mansions entrance hall.

Quatre sighed, relieved and thankful to be let off the hook so easily for a change, before he too left the scene, leaving the house through the servant's door. As he headed towards the empty, wooden cart near the stalls, Quatre caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair attaching the horse to the wagon.

Perhaps sensing Quatre's approach, Duo instantly shot up, wide grin growing bigger as his friend came into full view. "Quatre, long time no see!" he said enthusiastically while still managing to keep a cool air about him. The blonde smiled and gave a hello in greeting before he sauntered up to the horse to stroke its mane.

Looking around to make sure they were alone, Duo moved his head closer to Quatre's, indicating that he wished to tell the boy something in private. "Hey, Quat, you sure you should be walking around right now? I mean, with your back-"

The blonde quickly raised a hand, smile still fixated in place. "I'm fine so long as Maria's alright." He said sincerely. Even if his back stung with every movement of his body, knowing that little Maria didn't have to suffer as he did set Quatre's mind to rest.

Duo scoffed disbelievingly, shaking his head with a wry smile on his face. "Honestly, Quatre, sometimes you're too kind for your own good. You should start acting more selfish; you're making the rest of us look bad."

Now it was Quatre's turn to scoff. "I don't act this way to show you up, _Duo,_" he said mockingly, climbing up onto the cart. "Is it my fault that I like to protect those who lack the power to defend themselves?" he asked innocently, folding his hands in his lap.

"It is when you're in no position to do so." Duo protested, pouting slightly before climbing up next to Quatre. "Listen, I admire your stance on protecting the weak, but don't you think you're taking a little too much collateral damage in the process?" the boy inquired, giving his friend a serious expression as he took hold of the horse's reins. When the blonde shrugged instead of supplying his comrade with a worded answer, Duo sighed and ran a hand through his long hair.

"Fine, but can't you take it a little easier? At the rate you're pulling all this valiant shit every girl in Anila will be falling for you."

"Pfft. Is that jealousy I hear?" Both friends, glad to be over the topic, shared a small laugh before their company was interrupted by the arrival of Septum and his two cronies. "Alright, pretty boys, into town we go." He said with a smirk before relaxing himself into the back of the wagon.

Both boys frowned when the other two climbed into the back of the cart, unhappy to have their space invaded so soon, but they had become accustomed to Septum's unwanted presence long ago and simply shrugged it off before heading towards Anila's marketplace.

Unfortunately, the trip had been anything but peaceful as the three back passengers made it their mission to become a nuisance. Both Duo and Quatre refused to talk to one another for the entirety of the journey, neither one wanting to provoke Septum into anger that something as small and ridiculous as a decent conversation could create. However, when one of the men with Septum took to throwing pebbles at Quatre's back, Duo couldn't help but to turn around and give the man a good glare down. The long haired boy smirked despite himself when the stone caster sent him an uneasy, mildly terrified look. He was about to magnify the man's fear tenfold for showing such disrespect towards his friend when the blonde grasped his shoulder.

"Leave it." Quatre said, offering Duo a reassuring squeeze before he returned to ignoring the men in the back. Duo, though unhappy with his friend's passiveness, had picked up on the finality in Quatre's voice. This normally was the blonde's silent way of saying 'whatever you do here will only hurt me later' so the brunette sighed and returned his attention to the front.

The sound of laughter from the three men caused Duo to grunt in frustration and glare at Anila as it grew in size. The stone caster, now reassured that Duo wouldn't rip him to shreds if he continued with his rock hurling, took it upon himself to aim a little higher. Stone in hand, the man made sure that both Quatre and Duo were relaxed and unsuspecting before he aimed at the blonde's head and let loose the stone.

Much to his surprise, Quatre wasn't as naive as they had suspected. The boy's arm was quick as it moved to the back of his head, catching the stone before contact was made. The men at the back, even Septum, were shocked, and perhaps mildly terrified by the blonde's reflexes, but indignantly stayed silent.

Quatre, feeling as though he'd made his point, carelessly threw the rock away, not bothering to give the men a disapproving glance before he continued to act as though nothing had happened. Duo, however, couldn't help smiling broadly at his friend's show. He made a note to compliment the blonde later when they were on break.

Upon finally reaching their destination, both boys disembarked from the cart and saw to gathering groceries. Septum, as usual, would be preoccupied with 'important' matters (which details Duo and Quatre were forbidden to know) and thus wouldn't be helping. The two other servants managed to disappear as well, leaving all the work up to the two boys. They just shrugged it off and did as they were told, bartering for the best goods at the lowest possible price, a skill the two had in abundance.

Although Duo had been born poor he was amazingly articulate and was thus the one person you could completely rely on to haggle down prices. He also had a charm and charisma about him that made him practically undeniable of any request, which came in handy when dealing with the 'soul of stone' merchants that set up shop in Anila. Duo had once told Quatre in secrecy that as a child, before he was adopted by Father Maxwell, he had taken to stealing in order to survive. The blonde could still remember the odd smile on Duo's face when he mentioned how much easier his life would have been if he had tried 'talking' himself some food instead of 'swiping' it.

Quatre alone was a fairly good at purchasing the best food at a cheap price. He had always been very diplomatic about it, avoiding the food stalls that would definitely charge them too high while still managing to find them a place that sold decent produce. His mannerism was always very polite and sophisticated despite his rank demotion and since he had become a regular at the best stores in Anila he was always awarded the best prices by those that recognized him.

Though Lady Une and her daughters were definitely living an idealistic lifestyle that was consequently diminishing their wealth, Duo and Quatre's bargaining skills would keep them afloat for a few more years.

As the two closed a deal with their merchant friend, Quatre handling all issues of money whilst Duo took to loading everything onto the cart, something caught the blonde's eye. In a darkened alley opposite to where he was standing sat a woman cloaked in fanciful robes of black and white.

Even from a distance, Quatre could tell that the lady was very beautiful. Her hair was a dark black color which meshed into the shadows of the buildings that hid her form skillfully from the eyes of others, and it was beaded wonderfully with silver orbs giving her the appearance of someone who had been rained upon by moonlight.

Her face was thin, but in a regal sense; she did not appear to be undernourished. Her robes were made of a fine material that the common person couldn't afford; silk. However beautiful she appeared, though, the majority of her splendor came from the mask she donned. White feather's tipped in pale grey flowed from its bridge, pouring over the top of her head and down her back like a waterfall of tiny wings. Two piercing, light blue eyes shone out, starring at nothing, as though they were void of feeling. Her current state could be compared to that of a rag doll; undeniably beautiful but utterly dead inside.

Quatre felt as though he could not move; as though his entire body had been made paralyzed by the random appearance of this woman; this woman who seemed little more then an empty shell… until her eyes became fierce, vibrant with life. It startled Quatre, but before he could look away from the changed woman her eyes were upon him, and once again he could not think of leaving the spot from which he stood.

He was at the mercy of her gaze, for she beckoned his attention with the mere presence of her being and alerted him to her needs without uttering a word. All Quatre saw was the movement of her lips to understand her plight. Water. She wanted water.

At this, Quatre regained his senses, blushing slightly before he bowed dumbly and rushed off to the cart. Neither he nor Duo had brought any supplies with them, for they had planned to have lunch with father Maxwell while they were in town, but the woman had looked dangerously parched and Quatre had never been the sort to leave the needy unaided, whether they were rich or poor.

Feeling a lot braver then he had in many days, Quatre quickly surveyed his surroundings before going into Septum's knapsack. Surely enough, a leather purse of water was found. As Quatre carried it away from the cart he felt guilt. It was minor due to the magnitude of hardships Septum had placed upon the boy over the years, but present nonetheless, and the boy faltered for a moment, wondering if his conscience would allow him to keep this act a secret.

Duo had not noticed, for a nearby dark haired girl had distracted his attention moments before Quatre had…'stolen' from Septum, but would he have cared? Could his actions really be judged as wrong considering the circumstances?

Sighing deeply, the boy made a mental note to tell Septum of his actions at a later time; right now, someone was in need of his aid.

He found the woman unmoving in the same position she had been left in, and was once again unnerved by how steadily her eyes were fixated on him. Still, he offered her a friendly smile and handed her the water. She slowly raised an arm and grasped the neck of the pouch between her thumb and forefinger. Without hesitation or question she pulled free the lid and touched her lips to the mouth, downing the water at a leisurely pace. Quatre couldn't help but to notice the smile the crept onto her face as her thirst slowly became quenched. It was full of pleasantness, warmth and kindness; enough to make the blonde feel comfortable despite his misdeeds.

However, this emotion was slightly trampled on when he took his eyes away from the woman and she spoke. "This was not yours." She said calmly and without accusation, and Quatre found himself blushing yet again. "Why put yourself at risk for my benefit, child?"

At first Quatre had been a little taken aback, the woman before him seemed little older then himself yet she referred to him as 'child', but then he noticed that she did have a certain wisdom about her, one that could only be acquired with age, so perhaps she was not as youthful as her appearance had first led him to believe.

Once again, the blonde found himself smiling. He had been immensely relived to find that the woman was not angry with him for stealing, but worried over his safety. "Do not worry," he said, bowing slightly. "You will not be harmed. It was my trespass and so I will receive punishment in your stead. Please," he gestured towards the water with his hand, "drink."

The woman ignored this, tightening her grip on the flask of water before she spoke once again. "But why?"

Yet again, Quatre was surprised. He clenched his fists at his sides, and lowered his eyes to the ground, trying to accumulate an answer in his head. "You were thirsty, weren't you?" he asked quietly, returning his gaze to the woman. "That's why. I thought that if you needed help, I couldn't just leave you there. I had to do something about it—I had to correct it." He laughed slightly at the awkwardness of the conversation before continuing. "So I don't mind getting punished, if that's what you mean. I've helped people in this manner so many times that I've almost built up an immunity to the lashes." He had started to chuckle a second time when his blue eyes widened and a look of horror crossed his face. He quickly held out his hands defensively and continued. "I don't mean to imply that I steal often, in fact, this is probably the only occasion where I have, but—well—you understand me?"

Now it was the woman's turn to laugh, and her mirthful voice was like hearing the singing of a church choir to Quatre; uplifting, holy, and in its own way, magical. Despite himself, he smiled and joined in with the laughter, finding the situation more bizarre then funny but worth a good chuckle just the same.

Eventually the woman composed herself, muffling giggles behind a delicate, white hand before she once again took to staring at Quatre with admiration in her startling blue eyes. "I see. You possess a pure heart."

The blonde was startled by the remark, and once again found his cheeks heated with embarrassment, but he accepted the woman's strange compliment just the same; he even managed to get across an awkward, "Thank you." in the process.

"Everything you do, its very selfless, isn't it?" Once again, the boy's eyes were startled into widening. Though kinder then the average person, the blonde was exceptionally modest. He couldn't help finding himself unworthy of such praise. "Such benevolence needs to be rewarded." The woman closed her eyes, veiling them from the world behind lush dark lashes and lids caked in wing patterned designs. The action gave Quatre the impression that she was thinking deeply about something; something of great importance.

"Boy," She said abruptly after a short period of silence, "please, step closer." Quatre's mouth opened slightly, and he gasped despite himself at the odd request, but he obeyed the lady nonetheless. "Your hand." she said next, deserting the water flask so that she could reach into her robes with free hands. "Hold it out to me." The blonde once again followed her instructions, extending his right hand to the woman. "I must be honest with you, Quatre-"

Once again the boy's eyes widened in mild shock. "How… do you know my name?" he asked quietly, voice growing even fainter when the dark haired woman raised a finger to her lips.

"I've been watching you for many years from the sanctuary of my lake. I witnessed your admirable actions towards mankind as you grew from child, to… almost man." that last part was said with a half smile, and despite feeling slightly insulted after being refused the title of 'man', the Quatre couldn't help but to blush at the underlying compliments in the woman's speech. "You lead a hard life, one that the average human would not be able to tolerate, and you show kindness to all. The results of this test are proof of that." Before Quatre could inquire as to what the mysterious woman meant by 'test' she continued. "You do not solely aid those of your own classification, but others as well; all who need your services you provide for." Red lips parted to show rows of white teeth as the nameless woman's smile broadened. "I am happy to have finally met you in person, Quatre Winner. To be bold, I would also like to confess that it is an immense honor to be given the opportunity to speak with one as pure as you in my lifetime. For your kindness, I would like to bestow upon you a gift."

When the woman finally set her hand free from the shrouds of her ornamented cloak Quatre had forgotten his hand had even been held out to her. Thus, he could only blush when she took his hand in hers andentrusted in his fingers aring. "This, Quatre, is one of my dear servants who I am now placing in your care. The power of miracles has been bestowed upon her, but she is unfairly cursed in that those powers may never be used to satisfy her own desires. Wear this ring and beckon her; she will fulfill your dreams without hesitation, but be warned," the woman's hands now tightened frighteningly on Quatre's, but the boy did not pull away; he was far too shocked by the events currently playing before him to do much anything, "abuse of this power will not only corrupt you, but show others the path to my servant as well. Stay true to your heart and use these powers to help those around you. Do this, and you'll earn yourself a happy ending."

Quatre nodded, trying to comprehend all that he had heard and whether or not there was any truth in what this woman, this complete stranger, had told him. It was quite possible that she was suffering from one of the minor effects of dehydration (temporary insanity) but somehow the boy _felt_ otherwise. Though the woman had claimed to have given him an improbable treasure that could only exist in a fairytale, he believed her; believed that the ring he now held in his hand was… magical; was his hope for a better life.

The woman now rose to leave, and Quatre made ready to exit the alleyway as well, grabbing Septum's water purse as he did so, before uttering a nearly silent, but still sincere, "Thank you." to the beautiful woman.

"No thanks is needed, boy." She replied before heading deeper into the alley.

Despite himself, Quatre couldn't help asking her this one question. "Kind lady," He started, bashful hesitance in his voice, "would you find it appropriate for me to ask your name?"

The woman chuckled heartily at this, once again covering his giggles behind a hand before she turned to face him once more. "Odette." She said, locking her light blue eyes with Quatre's dark ones. "My name is Odette."

Quatre smiled, letting out a relieved sigh in the process. He tucked the ring into the safety of his pocket before making ready to leave a second time, yet somehow, even after learning the woman's name, the boy's curiosity was not satisfied. He wanted to learn even more. Unfortunately, even if he _hadn't_ the decency to allow Odette to depart, he wouldn't have been granted the opertunity to speak with her more, for at that very moment he was confronted.

"Quatre, you little bitch!" the blonde let out a startled gasp before he spun around, pivoting on hisright foot to see who was addressing him. Imagine his horror when he discovered a very angry looking Septum heading his way, glaring a hole into his soul. After being momentarily unaware of what he had done to provoke Septum's anger, Quatre realized that he still had the mostly empty water flask in his hand; his overseer had apparently noticed this as well, for sight of it only caused his mood to intensify. "Heh. Here I was just going to put you scrawny ass to work by sending you over to help Duo, but now I'm really pissed off!"

Mentally, Quatre thought that the older man getting this riled up over something as trivial as water in a place where it was bountiful was absolutely absurd, but he was wiser then his age let on and smartly decided to keep his trap close despite Septum closing the distance between them.

He grabbed Quatre's hand roughly, causing the boy to flinch, before yanking the water flask free from the blonde's hand. "You know Quatre," he started, pretending to analyze the leather water case as though it were extremely captivating before he threw it to the ground, "You can't just go around taking _my_ water for no good reason."

"But-" he started, prepared to speak of Odette to explain his actions when he realized such a ploy could endanger the woman. Cautiously, he looked to where Odette had once been standing in hopes that he'd see her wisely hiding out of Septum's view, but he was met with complete and utter shock instead. Odette wasn't hiding; she had completely vanished, leaving behind nothing but a trail of white feathers leading up to the sky, glistening in sun's heated rays of light. Gulping down his surprise and mild fear, Quatre returned his eyes to Septum. "I'm sorry… I was thirsty." was all he could say without stepping out of line.

At this, Septum merely smirked, and in a way Quatre found none too comfortable. "If water could be paid for in words it'd be raining everyday, wouldn't it?" he asked, grasping the boy's shoulders before pushing him into the alley, propping him up against a wall. Quatre put up no resistance, but stayed on guard, prepared to defend himself if need for fight or flight arose. "So, Quatre lad, how does one with no money pay for stolen water?" The boy's expression darkened as the man looked him up and down, eyeing him as though planning to unclothe. It sickened the blonde, but all he could do in his defense was fold his arms over his chest in defiance. "I can think of one way…" Septum said in a dark, hushed voice, tracing a hand against Quatre's face, to which the boy merely moved away, as if he could some how pass through the wall and out of reach. "Rooms a waitin', Quatre. Don't worry, I'll be gentle…" he continued mockingly, brushing a thumb roughly against the boy's lower lip. "Gentler then the whip, in any case." His words were lined with mock and threat; it would seem this time Septum truly believed Quatre would play his game, but no amount of intimidation could convince the boy that succumbing to his overseer was better then the pain of lashes.

So, as the man leaned in to 'seal the deal', to take away the boy's confidence, Quatre instinctively dropped to his knees with speed enough to loosen him from Septum's grip. While the man was temporarily jostled and confused, the blonde made his revenge; revenge that Septum wouldn't be forgetting or forgiving anytime soon. Hands placed carefully on the ground for balance, Quatre caught Septum's legs in his own with a scissor like move before he twisted his body hard enough force the man forward. Septum's face collided with the wall and a surprised howl left his lips. Face still forced into the wall, the dark haired man could do little more then grip for his bloody nose as he came plummeting to the ground.

Quatre saw his opportunity to flee the alley and get into the open, and he quickly dashed for the center of the street. He wasn't at all surprised to see Septum's men there, waiting, whip in hand, but the blonde paid them no mind. He knew there was no escape from punishment where Septum was involved, but he still believed himself lucky, for there was rarely an occasion where he couldn't chose between the lesser of two evils. He always had a choice; Septum or whip. For that, he was thankful.

As his overseer came stumbling out of the alley, cussing up a storm while gripping his terribly bleeding nose, a small, hushed crowd had formed, wondering what chaos would ensue. Septum had quite the reputation for being a violent, ruthless man that none should confront so Quatre already knew he'd be seeking no aid from them. Still, with so many witnesses, Septum wouldn't attempt dragging him back into the alley where he could do with him as he pleased.

Eventually, the dark man's eyes found Quatre, and they were filled with humiliation and immense hate. The blonde had always been good at sensing other people's emotions; knowing what they felt even if it wasn't painted across their face in an expression. Though Septum's eyes may have given away pieces of what he felt, Quatre could feel those very same emotion coming onto him in far more powerful waves. It was almost suffocating and more then enough to put the blonde on edge.

It would seem that today's lashes were going to be far worse then all the others, but that was the price one paid for freedom.

* * *

-_Portentum_-

* * *

Hilde was, quite frankly, lost. That was the problem with being friends with Trowa and Heero; they were far too cautious for their own good. They had escaped the castle to enjoy a bit of freedom yet the two rarely found time to stop and smell the roses… which, to Hilde, made their overall task of escaping a noble lifestyle rather redundant. After all, they were here to enjoy the simple life, weren't they? So far the trip had been little more then Trowa and Heero leaving her alone to scout an area before they all hopped right back on their horses to leave… only to repeat the very same actions again an hour later. At first Hilde hadn't minded, she had been expecting this sort of behavior, but now that they had reached Anila she thought that they would have had the decency to stop surveying and eat the lunch she had made for them. 

Besides, despite all the care they had placed into leading the royal guard astray they had failed to notice that one of their party was missing. Quite ironically, Hilde had stopped to smell the roses being sold at a nearby stall in the marketplace at the exact moment the crown prince and his body guard had decided to search for an inn where they would hopefully not be recognized.

Though Hilde now wanted little more then to disappear simply so that her friends would have to go through the trouble of searching for her, she knew that such a ploy would both waste their time and possibly lead to them being captured. So, sighing dejectedly, she stayed where she was near the flower stall, hoping that they would make a speedy return.

"Like the flowers?" a girl not much younger then Hilde asked, wiping her dirt covered hands on her apron. "They were cut fresh this morning."

"Oh yes, they're beautiful." She replied honestly, and the two shared a smile. In the mood for a bit of conversation, the flower girl continued.

"We used to get more then this, when Lord Winner was still around." Her smile turned bitter for a moment before she continued. "Kind man, 'e was. A good portion of his land was rented to my family for flower growing. Actually, donated would prolly be a better way of phrasing it. 'Got nothing better to do with it' 'e says and lets me family plant flowers there for free."

Hilde smiled and nodded, knowing all too well the tragic tale of Abra Winner. It was so foolish, his demise. It really took away her faith in the people of Kumania, for in her eyes, it was a fairly ignorant act, even with the fast passing of their monarchs, to blame such a tragedy on a man who was renowned for his kindness and compassion was truly insane. Fate truly had a twisted way of running course.

"Well, that all changed soon enough." The girl continued, casting her eyes downwards as she went to smoothing out her apron. "With his passing LadyUne took hold of his estate, an' being the practical sort she saw no use in a free flowerbed. Started chargin', and at a price my folks certainly couldn't afford, so we let it go. Now that garden is 'ers. Hired help to tend it too, though I don't know how much good that's been doin' her. Here the Winner fortunes dwindling out." She sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Pity all o' Winner's children left home. Married they are, and far away from here too no doubt. Bet if that fine girl Iria was still around she would have kept that place in working order."

"Iria?" Hilde questioned, face looking puzzled for a moment. "One of Abra's daughters?"

"Right you be." The girl replied, smiling in memory. "Always nice, that girl, but LadyUne didn't want her around. Rumor is she was taking attention away from her own girls. Had her married off quickly enough so that the local nobles wouldn't be… distracted." The girl giggled, sending Hilde a quick wink, who smiled, understanding the flower maiden's meaning.

"Yes, these are very lovely flowers." She started again, absently stroking the cut of lilies in front of her. "I think I'll take a few." The flower girl nodded in confirmation, and as she went to gathering a group of the stalls best looking lilies Hilde took to digging around in her own apron for coin.

"There you are, all set." The girl handed the wrapped bundle over to Hilde, who said her thanks and took the flowers. "Thirteen bronze pieces, please."

As Hilde continued to mull about in her apron, an embarrassed blush crept onto her cheeks. "Forgive me, but the smallest coin in my possession is a silver piece-"

"Silver?" the girl interrupted quietly, putting a finger to her lower lip in wonder. "Didn't think you the sort to be so well off, and I mean ya' no offense. You're plenty pretty enough, but I was thinking you an aid."

Hilde laughed quietly, handing the girl the silver coin. "I'm well situated, but far from nobility. Let's just say I keep good company. Feel free to keep the change."

Now it was the flower girl's turn to laugh. "Good company? Wish I 'ad the power to switch places with you. Anila's only nice if you have money… or company." Hilde blushed again, thinking at first that the girl had misunderstood and thought her the sort to partake in ill looked upon dealings, but the blonde soon elbowed her in the arm and sent her another wink; a sign that she was only joking. Relieved, Hilde sighed and let free another smile. "You're not from around these parts, are you?" the flower girl asked curiously, leaning her elbows against the wooden surface of her stall before resting her head in her hands. Seeing Hilde's mildly startled expression, the girl proceeded. "You've got a classy mannerism, girl, and those close seem fine, despite your 'station'. What parts you from?"

Hilde blushed, bashfully scratching at her cheek in a somewhat thoughtful gesture. "No offense meant, but I can't tell you. You see, my friends are trying to escape their stations so I'm not allowed to let loose information of who we are, where we're from, or where we're going." Smiling slightly, she shook her head. "Honestly, those two are far too cautious for my liking."

The blonde girl chuckled. "I hear yah, I hear yah. Well, best I not be keeping you. Drop by again if you're staying in town any longer. My name is Shanelle." She extended a hand and smiled brightly, showing off rows of white teeth.

Hilde returned the gesture, sporting an equally radiant smile. "Hilde. But don't tell anyone." This time, it was her turn to wink playfully, and the flower girl repeated the action, saying 'right you are' and 'goodbye' as Hilde made to leave.

As she went to return the wave , however, she found herself distractedly stumbling into something, or rather, as time revealed, someone. Letting out a startled gasp she stepped back a few paces for safety, watching wide eyed as the brown haired man in front of her carrying a large load tumbled to the ground. Through what must have been sheer skill and luck, the boy managed to hit the ground while only spilling a few vegetables. Still, his tumble was obviously painful; a string of barely audible curse words left his mouth while he rubbed his sore backend, looking absently at the minor damage that had been done.

Snapping out of her bystander phase with a start, Hilde slapped a hand to her face at her own stupidity and rushed to the boy's side. "I'm so sorry!" She started, picking up the stray vegetables. Shanelle quickly rushed out from behind her counter to help, still in minor shock from witnessing the collision. "I wasn't paying attention."

Much to her surprise, the brown haired boy simply smiled, letting out a lighthearted chuckle. "No damage, don't worry."

Shanelle was also laughing. "Honestly, Duo, you should be more careful, mate. Nearly knocking this girl off her feet, what would father Maxwell say if he were near enough to see such a thing?"

_Father Maxwell?_ Hilde thought to herself, staring wide-eyed at the boy for a moment. The name sounded very familiar. If she recalled correctly, Father Maxwell was the priest who had seen to taking care of war orphans from Dracobrand and Avisaithne, where orphanages were packed to the brim with parentless children of all ages. _This boy is an orphan?_ She smiled at the boy before pulling him to his feet. Her heart would have gone out to him, but he was smiling so happily that she felt as though he had led a wonderful life under the priest. He didn't seem to sort to accept pity even if it were offered to him on a silver platter; hers probably would have been no different. Instead, she admired the stranger for growing up so proper, despite his circumstances.

"Yah, yah." The boy, Duo, replied, dusting off his backside with his free hand. "I'm sure he'd be spouting a whole mouth load of rants and yelling 'blasphemy!' up and down the streets. Sheesh," He continued, running his hand through his hair in mock resentfulness, "Give my old man _some_ credit. He may be a man of god but he hasn't lost all sense." Shanelle laughed in agreement, waved goodbye to Hilde a second time, and returned to her stall.

"Anyway, sorry lady." He started seriously, same pleasant, honest smile displayed on his face. "Couldn't very well see over all… this." he finished, identifying 'this' as the groceries with his free hand. "Thanks for all your help in cleanup, though. Who knows how long it would have taken me had you merely apologized and left." He said good humouredly before going on his way.

Hilde, still in a dazeby the sudden disruption in her otherwise calm day, extended a hand to the boy, and before she knew what she was doing she had grasped his shoulder. Mildly surprised, Duo turned around, and the dark haired girl found herself speechless. Not wanting to appear stupid or troublesome she quickly decided to introduce herself. "I'm Hilde!" she said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and only afterwards was it that she realized she had now not only given her name away to one stranger, but two.

Despite her inner turmoil, the boy returned the smile and offered his own name. "I'm Duo. Pleased you meet you."

Now that they had arrived at yet another awkward silence, Hilde, grasping at straws, clutched at her dress. "Would you, like help?" she then ran a hand through her hair. "I did bruise a few of your vegetables, so it would only be proper if I repay you for your troubles in some way."

"Now that's really not necessary," Duo replied, placing a hand on his hip, raising an eyebrow, "but my friend did disappear a moment ago so I'm short a hand. There are some boxes back that way," he said, gesturing with his shoulder, "Don't hurt yourself. Shanelle will get mad at me if I let such a pretty foreigner strain herself." With a wink, Duo went back to what he was doing, and once again Hilde felt a little out of sorts.

"H-hey!" she started, frowning slightly while tucking her flower bundle away in the largest pocket of her apron. "What are you suggesting? That I can't handle it?" Duo loaded his vegetables into the cart and turned back towards the merchants stall where the rest of his supplies were waiting. "I'll have you know that I do a lot of heavy lifting." Proving her point, she grabbed one of the large bundles with ease. Smirking at Duo, who had let out an impressed whistle, she made her way back to the cart.

"Now don't get out of sorts," he began, taking another load himself, "My intention was to be _polite_. Your foreign people take offense to everything?" he asked, giving her a look of interest.

Hilde smiled, dropping the load onto the cart. "Don't talk about me as though I'm not apart of this country. I don't look _that_ out of place, do I?" Duo jokingly pretended to be minding his own business, whistling absently as he walked away.

Baffled, Hilde stared wide-eyed at his retreating back. "Hey, wait! Answer the question!" Hopping off the cart, she jogged ahead to join him. "What's wrong with me?"

"Well," the boy started, bringing a hand to his chin in a thinking gesture before he proceeded to rotate around the girl, examining her image jokingly. "There are those silk robes, for starters. You're dressed the part of a peasant, but there aren't no poor folk around here with robes like that, which under normal circumstances would lead me to believe that you're the hired help of a rich noble, only, even the nobles here don't tend well to their hands. Your threads should be cotton." He shrugged, placing his hands into his pockets.

"What?" Hilde started, mildly taken aback by the long haired boy's observation skills. "Is that all?"

"No." he said, bringing his face almost uncomfortably close to her own. "You're also carrying silver coins." Blinking confusedly, Hilde was just about to question what Duo meant when the boy held up said silver coin. "Rather easy target for thieves, aren't you?" Winking cheekily, the boy dropped the coin back into Hilde's white apron before gathering another load.

The girl's mouth hung agar in surprise as she tried to accumulate a response, but no words came and she had to settle for laughing lightly. "One of your 'wisdom' must already know where I'm from, then." She said absently, taking another box of groceries in her arms.

"Well, I'll say this," Duo looked over his shoulder and sent the girl another wide grin. "There's only one place in Satulurain where servants are dressed as finely as yourself, and that's the capital city." He then shrugged a second time, heading back towards the cart. "But then, that's just a guess. I may be the ears of Anila as far as speculation goes, but you're new, I've got no tabs on yah."

"I feel thankful." Hilde muttered jokingly, following Duo back to the cart. With nothing else to gather, the two found themselves again in the presence of silence. "So, you know this place well then?" she asked, to which Duo nodded smartly, examining his nails as though they were of high interest. "Must know it like the back of your hand." Once again, the brunette nodded, smile broadening. "Could you tell me, then, where three travelers from out of town could stay for a night or two without drawing much attention to themselves?"

At this the boy quirked an eyebrow and a sly smile played on his lips. "What are you and your friends? A band of thieving rogues fleeing the police?" Hilde's face was, at first, in a state of shock, but eventually she realized the absurdity of Duo's sentence and laughed heartily. This simply made the boy's smile grow larger. "I suppose they're hot on your heels and patrolling the borders with aim to stop you and your band of dastardly men before you strike again, spreading chaos throughout the land!" At this, the girl's laughter only grew.

"Men?" She started, raising a thin blue-black eyebrow indignantly, small smile on her lips. "Who said anything about men? I am the captain of a terrible group of stealing widows. Our husbands left us dirt poor and thus, in a desperate, sorrowful plight, we resorted to piracy! Now we wreak havoc upon the land by uplifting the goods of the fortunate!"

"I cannot judge you by your misdeeds, rogue," Duo said solemnly, closing his eyes in an attempt to look dignified, "I feel for you and your band of marry elder women. Thus, I will take it upon myself to aid you by disclosing the information of which you seek. Between the nooks and crannies of Anila's dark alleyways you'll find a road leading to a series of recently built taverns and inns that have not yet been added to Satulurain's maps. Search hard enough for this newly build suburb and you'll, ironically, find a place called the 'Rogue's Escape'. Lovely place, nice curtains on the windows, good food on the plates, and, most importantly, prices fit for thieves. I'm sure you and the little women will have a sporting time hiding out their. Stay as long as you like, can't say many people will complain to having one as lovely as yourself around." Duo then winked playfully at Hilde, who was currently sitting on the wagon.

She laughed good humouredly a second time, but quieted down when she saw Duo's expression fall. Concerned even though she had not known the brown haired boy for very long, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

* * *

-_Portentum_-

* * *

Duo remembered something. 

Quatre was still missing. In fact, now that he gave the matter a considerable amount of thinking, he hadn't seen Quatre in at least an hour. Duo guessed the time to be an hour till noon; the blonde boydefinitely should havebeen back by now. Their duty of food restock was a weekly tradition so the brunette knew his friends rituals off by heart. He dealt with money, which didn't take long considering that they were on good terms with the merchants, and then he helped Duo load food onto the cart.

Quatre was _not_ the sort to slack off; he was possibly the most hardworking person Duo knew, so his disappearance struck him as very odd.

Hilde seemed to notice his concern, for she had brought him back to reality by placing a hand to his shoulder. "What's wrong?" she asked, and Duo quickly brought another cheery smile to his face. "Nothing, just wait here, I'll be back." Duo hopped off the cart and made to leave, but paused. He remembered Septum and his men… and what they might do to such a fine looking girl. There was no way he could leave Hilde unwarned.

Clearing his throat, Duo turned to her and corrected himself. "Actually, if three strange, scary looking men approach you, hide." Though it was true the cart belonged to the Maxwell church, Duo knew very well that Septum liked to pretend he had more authority then he was worth; chances of him taking advantage of a girl sitting on 'his' cart were high. "I'll be right back, promise!" He said again, sending the girl a fairly cheesy wave before he headed for the belly of the marketplace.

As he darted in and out of street traffic trying to search for his friend, he thought the worst. It was one thing for Quatre to be missing, but for both him and Septum's lot to vanish was another issue entirely. His immediate assumption was that Quatre had somehow done something 'wrong' enough to attract Septum's attention. Duo knew all too well what the man wanted from his fair haired friend, and he was even surer of the fact that Quatre could take care of himself; it was that knowledge that troubled him the most. He'd be damned if he allowed his friend to be lashed again, especially at the market, of all places.

Not at the moment concerned with who got in the way of his mad rush, Duo managed to tumble into two men around his age while rampaging. "Sorry." he muttered half-heartedly before barreling down the street once more. As he showed his back to the gentlemen he could feel the blue eyed one's gaze glaring deep into his back, but he kept going, prioritizing Quatre's safety above his own.

A little further down he saw the circular formation of a crowd and his instincts told him that in the middle of that circle he'd find Quatre. Sure enough, as he pushed his way between the frightened masses, he saw him, knees to the ground and arms held in place by Septum's men. The dark haired man himself stood about Quatre, nose bloodied and broken from a previous brawl, no doubt. The man's smile was terrifying, even to Duo. He wasthe image of controlled madness; Duo knew that Septum had to have been in a furious state to go this far, but he was lashing his friend harshly with such a calm expression. It sickened the brunette to the point of vomiting. A growl caught in the back of his throat as he continued to make his way to the front.

He looked to Quatre, who was obviously trying to keep his pain at bay. _Good boy, Quat. Don't give him the satisfaction._ He thought to himself, anger rising. Quatre's shirt was torn and streaked in blood, and his earlier unhealed wounds were once again open. It was enough for one's admiration in the boy to rise; all that suffering and he still refused to let out a cry of pain or tear.

"HEY!" He yelled, furious voice more then enough to catch the 'gentlemen's' attention. "There isn't a trespass great enough in this world for him to deserve that, let him be!" he commanded, though he didn't exactly have the authority to persuade their actions. Septum, ever the abuser of power, knew this well, and simply sent Duo a 'what you going to do about it?' look before he brought the whip down on Quatre's back again.

Duo, angered to the verge of going on a killing spree, was about to show Septum _exactly_ what he planned to do when Quatre's pleading gaze caught his eyes. _Don't interfere _was what they read, and Duo grudgingly stayed back. He knew his friend was right, that to stoke Septum's fire was to make the punishment worse, but Quatre already seemed so undeserving that he could barely restrain himself.

_It's not fair._ He thought as the whip came down again, tearing into Quatre's flesh with ease. He scanned the mixed crowd, noting both peasants and nobles viewing the 'spectacle'; none made any move to help the boy who to their knowledge had done nothing to deserve this treatment. _Why isn't anyone helping?_ Without the power to do anything, the boy simply stood by and watched.

* * *

-_Portentum_-

* * *

In his rush, Duo had failed to notice that he was being followed. Hilde hadn't taken too well to being told to stay put. In her eyes, that was almost as bad as being deserted by Trowa and Heero. Shame on her if she allowed herself to be left behind in a foreign place a second time! There was no way she was going to let Duo vanish without explanation.

Unfortunately, the boy proved to be most difficult to follow; he made his way through the masses with ease, sifting like sand between the busy crowds, and when the boy managed to find a place where he could sneak throughand that very spot disappeared before Hilde could do the same.

At what first seemed to be a lucky break, Hilde witnessed Duo falter in his otherwise smooth progress through the marketplace by crashing into a pair of males, and she thought she'd have a chance to catch up. Unfortunately, unlike Duo, her attention was quickly gained by these two males, for they were not just any males. They were good looking males of whom she had spent most of her childhood playing beside.

Hilde's eyes widened with mirth at the sight of them. Trowa, who looked startled but unbothered by the collision, had picked himself up off the ground and returned his hood to his head to avoid recognition. Now all one could see of his face was a seldom forest green eye and golden brown bangs long overdue for a trim. Heero seemed a little more frustrated, perhaps at himself for being caught so off guard, but he soon cooled his mild anger enough to adjust his hood as well. Though he didn't stick out as much as Trowa any swordsman around would know his face and he'd be recognized instantly, drawing a crowd that could possibly lead to Trowa's discovery as well, and that was the last thing the trio needed.

She quickly flagged them down with the wave of her hand, temporarily forgetting all about Duo. "Hey!" She called, and the two boys found her moving form with ease.

"Where were you?" Trowa asked, though he really didn't seem all too interested in the answer. "We need to leave."

"We've checked the map and ventured around town. No appropriate inns were located in that time span and we can't stay in the open much longer." Heero started immediately after, expression a good deal more severe then the prince's. Obviously he didn't think as lightly of 'her' disappearance as Trowa. "If we do, we're targets. We'll leave Anila and try somewhere else-"

"No!" Hilde interrupted bravely, sweating from both the chase and sun. "I just talked with someone here! Anila's been building! There's a whole new section between the alleyways that has yet to be printed on Satulurain's maps!"

"Not on the maps?" Trowa repeated, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Yes! Don't you see?" she asked, now looking to Heero who had so far served as their leader. "It's perfect! We could stay here as long as we liked and not get hunted down!"

"Yes." Trowa replied, closing his eyes with a smirk. "I trust you got this information from a reliable source. If we can acquire an equally reliable guide it'd be perfectly suitable for us to stay here any given number of days. Perhaps we could even wait for the guards to pass us by and head inwards towards a more suitable location, right Heero?"

"Affirmative." The brown haired boy responded, revealing a grin of his own.

"Good, good, now this way!" Hilde started, remembering herself. "I met someone! A boy around our age! He promised to help!" Both prince and bodyguard sent her questionable glances, to which she could only blush. "Shut up!" she said despite their silence before she took off again. Trowa called for her to wait, but she had already wasted too much time speaking to them.

She had to find Duo now so that he could whisk them away to safety. At first she had no idea as to the new boy's location, but his ridiculously long braid caught her attention soon enough. Duo had disappeared into a crowd that Hilde too found herself plowing through; she could only hope that Trowa and Heero had been able to keep their eyes on her and were thus nearby.

"HEY!" she heard the boy call out suddenly, and the anger in his voice made her halt in her tracks. "There isn't a trespass great enough in this world for him to deserve that, let him be!" Her eyes quickly sought out Duo, and she saw the braided boy's attention lay not on her, but on a dark haired man standing in the center of the crowd.

Letting out a startled gasp, she covered her mouth with both hands and quickly turned away. A boy, petite in figure with blonde hair kneeled before the crowd. There were deep whip marks embedded in his back, and by the sound of things, it wasn't going to stop, despite Duo's protesting. The blonde didn't even cry out as he was struck again and again, and Hilde found herself growing furious by Duo's lack of activity.

She had thought them to be friends by his outburst, why did he stand by and watch like so many others? It enraged her; were it Trowa or Heero in the blonde's stead she would have surely done more then assume the role of a spectator. Returning her eyes to Duo, she found his gaze now stuck on the pale boy in the center of the crowd. The blonde, despite all that was going on around him, seemed to be more concerned with holding Duo back then anything else. Hilde's eyes widened in utter disbelief when the boy offered the brunette a smile and wink; how could he present such reassurance while going through that treatment was beyond her.

She knew absolutely nothing about the blonde, not even a name, but she saw nothing admirable in his actions right now. To her, there was no honor in kneeling like a dog before your master's feet to accept such ruthless treatment. That was foolish and surely against the law in a place like Anila… wasn't it? The most punishment she had ever received for a misdeed was a spanking on the rear end when she was a child. As a teenager, punishment changed to either isolation in her room or a slap across the wrists. How could people stand treating other peopleso poorly?

In those thoughts, she found her voice. "S-stop that!" she started, startling many people, Duo and the blonde included. The dark haired man with the whipmerely sneered, obviously not pleased to be interrupted a second time. "You're going to kill him!" she continued angrily, clenching her fists at her side.

"Hilde!" Duo started, desperation clear in his voice. It seemed as though he had wanted to say a good deal more then that, but fear for both her and the blonde's safety was holding him back.

Despite this, she wouldn't stand down. Hilde moved to the front, intent on making the man's aids release the boy. She pushed one man away with strengthhe obviously didn't think one of her petite stature possessed before grabbing the boy's arm and slinging it over her shoulder. The blonde seemed to be in a state of shock and fear as Hilde made to carry him off; where, she hadn't the foggiest.

While trying to get him at least past the crowd she noticed that there was someone else clinging to the boy, trying desperately to keep him in place. The dark haired girl gritted her teeth in frustration before she turned to face him. "Sod off already!" she said, trying to tug the blonde free, but before she could get much anywhere she heard Duo calling her name a second time.

She found the brunette's face in the crowd and he was looking urgently behind her. Fearful, the girl turned around just in time to see the whip in the air, but she was much too terrified to do anything. It had been so wrong in her mind for a man to attack a girl that never in a million years would she have seen this coming. At a loss for what to do, Hilde settled for closing her eyes and turning away, as though it would take away the intensity of the attack. Prepared for the worst, she awaited the sting of the whip, but before any pain came to her she found herself lying on the ground only seconds before the whip cracked.

The blonde boy had pushed her away. He had pushed her to the left of the crowd so that she'd miss the blow. When realization of this sunk in she spun her head around. The blonde was now starring at her, eyes wide with concern, but when she returned the gaze they softened, as though… relieved. Hilde's eyes eventually traveled down the length of his arm to the place she had been standing moments ago. A long, bloody gash ran across his arm, marking what should have been _her_ punishment.

Eyes widened, Hilde found herself gulping down her breakfast at the close call, and she felt immensely guilty for having to have the boy save her like that, for even though he had just been struck he didn't seem the least bit angry with her. He was _smiling, _smiling because she had been spared serious harm. Her eyes watered in self loathing as Duo rushed to her side, also concerned for her safety. Two complete strangers were worried about her, even though everything was entirely her fault for stepping out of line when Duo had warned her not to. Was this not his home? His territory? Duo should have known better then anyone what would have happened, yet she had brushed off his warning with little care and attempted to help anyway.

To her, it just felt so awful; not being able to do anything, but that didn't give her the right to act, did it?

"Fucking hell, Septum!" Duo yelled angrily, putting a comforting hand on Hilde's shoulder. "She's just a girl!"

"A girl that needs to learn _her place_!" He spat back, devil's grin displayed clearly across his features. Wiping the dried blood from his nose, he continued. "And you should learn _yours_!"

"Duo!" the blonde yelled again, panic clear in his voice. Soon, Hilde understood why. It seemed Septum no longer cared who got in the way of his attacks, for he had raised his whip again, aiming for the pair of them. People in close proximity to Duo and Hilde ran away, letting out terrified wails as they dispersed. The two, stranded on their knees, couldn't hope to move as quickly, so, swearing loudly, Duo hid Hilde in his arms, hoping to take the full force of the blow and defend her.

Not being in the right state of mind to comprehend what was going on, Hilde clung to the boy's shirt and hid her face. After the threatening sound of the whip's crack passed, she narrowly opened her eyes and looked to Duo's face. His eyes too were opened, but they were wide with wonder and confusion. Knitting her eyebrows together in an equal state of bewilderment, Hilde looked passed Duo and found that someone had blocked the whip in his stead.

At first the odd angle of the sun had ruined her view of the person. Hilde had to squint in order to better scrutinize the cloaked figure. Upon realization of the 'stranger's' identity her entire demeanor brightened noticeably. Her hands shot to her mouth before she could say a word, for her two friends had warned her that letting lose their names was hazardous to the mission. Instead, she let out a startled gasp at Trowa's back.

Afterwards she quickly searched out Heero's location and found him a few paces ahead of her prince with Septum at his feet. The dark haired man's expression was a mix of mortification, fear and anger. He clutched his hands to his once again bleeding nose, kicking at the dirt as if to get away from her friend as fast as possible. Heero held in his right hand the whip and was analyzing it as though it were of high interest. Eventually though he abandoned it, tossing it towards an astonished looking blonde boy before he took a step towards Septum, cracking his knuckles to show that he was ready for a fight whenever the man chose to rise to his feet.

"You should have kept your whip to your servant boy." Trowa said dismally, as if the entire situation had already bored him. "This girl is of my household. If there's a lesson she's in need of learning I will find a teacher of higher wit and understanding then yourself to educate her." Septum's face fired up with rage once again, and he looked ready to yell his protests, but as he made to get to his feet Heero once again cracked his knuckles. Needless to say, the man found himself silent and terrified, quivering in the dirt once more. Trowa took the silence as his right to proceed and continued to speak without hesitation. "In any case, I see she's troubled you to some degree. I'm ready to compensate you for your troubles by paying coin for her trespasses. Perhaps it'd also be prudent for me to relieve you of your servant boy, who seems to have been giving you a challenging time as well."

Hilde smiled broadly and turned to face Duo, who seemed rather dumbstruck as he sat with his bottom and palms to the ground and mouth ajar, trying to grasp this new situation. She then turned to face the nameless boy, expecting to see him overcome with joy from Trowa's speech. After all, he was offering to pay for him! Considering how his current life must have been playing out, this should have been a joy close to being set free. However, Hilde's own smile faltered when she saw the blonde absolutely terrified and worried. His fingers were digging into the ground as if he wished to disappear, and it seemed as though all pain in his back had been numbed by the _horror_ of what was happening. She was absolutely puzzled by this. Didn't the boy _want _freedom?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw something glistening in the sun. Trowa had produced a gold coin from his money pouch, causing all who hadn't been frightened off by Septum's earlier attack to gasp in awe. "This alone should be enough to pay for the girl's unwanted involvement, but," he then brushed his thumb down his index finger, as if to snap, and revealed a second coin hidden behind the first. "Here's the separate payment for the boy. I'm sure it's more then his worth." He carelessly tossed the coins to the ground and Duo took that opportunity to rush to his friend's side. The blonde didn't look capable of moving on his own due to shock and injury. He'd need assistancegetting to his feet.

Septum greedily picked up the coins, clutching them to his chest in spite the death glare Heero was giving him for forcing the prince's involvement. The bodyguard kept his eyes on the worm even after Trowa turned to help Hilde to her feet. He kneeled before her and offered her his hand,a gesture that would make the ordinary girl swoon romantically. Hilde simply accepted her friend's help and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. The blonde too had been brought to a standing position with the help of Duo, and since they were all ready to leave thePrince of Satulurain made to depart the scene.

Before he could get far, however, he was stopped by Septum's quivering call. "Wait!" he had said, and though obviously annoyed, Trowa turned around to face the man. "I'm merely his overseer!" he pleaded, attempting to look humble. "That boy belongs to the Lady Winner! Perhaps this coin is enough to forgive his wrongs for today, but it is not enough to buy him without the lady's concen-"

Before Septum could finish, two more gold coins were thrown his way, smacking against his chest before hitting the ground. "I understand your plight. Consider him rented, then. Surely your mistress can do without one servant for a week." Considering the matter settled, Trowa offered Hilde his arm, not wanting her to wander off a third time to start more chaos. The girl wordlessly accepted, knowing she had caused her friends a good deal of unwanted trouble.

After sending Septum another icy glare, daring the coward to halt them a second time with his greediness, Heero too took to leaving. Over his shoulder he heard the man let out a relieved sigh, and he found disappointment in how quick the scum had forgotten his misdeeds. The brown haired bodyguard then raised a hand, cracking his knuckles one last time before dropping his arm back down to his side. A small shriek came from the man crawling around the ground behind him and Heero smirked knowing that he had understood the 'reminder'.

Being at the front with Trowa, Hilde couldn't help but to be concerned with the two new boys traveling behind her. She thought them in need of more help then what her friends were currently offering due to the severity of the blonde's condition, but as she made to look behind her she was pleasantly surprised to see that Heero had found his place underneath the boy's other arm and was helping Duo carry him through the streets. As if reading her mind, Trowa gave Hilde's hand a squeeze, catching her attention. He then gave her a small smile, something that had, of late, become a rare treat that very few were fortunate enough to receive. _We're not total scumbags _that smile had read, and Hilde let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding before offering a smile of her own.

"…Liar." Surprised, Hilde turned back around to see Duo sporting a mock frown. "Here I was hoping to meet two lovely widows in need of a good time. This is _such_ a let down." Laughing at the blank, confused stare Trowa sent the brown haired boy, Hilde attempted to cover her humor with a hand. She was mildly stunned to see that the blonde, despite his obvious pain and bewilderment, was also laughing quietly, even though he did not fully understand the joke. "Well, you've _definitely_ proven to be a rogue, so I guess I'll accept your half truth and fulfill my duty of showing you that inn I'd recommended earlier. But!" at this, the boy thrusted his free arm into the air, pointing a finger towards the sky. "I need food first." and as if that were a bizarre cue of some sort, the boy's stomach began to rumble in hunger.

* * *

-_To be continued_-

* * *

_AN_: And I'm ending it there because if I write anymore it would be like putting the entire story down in this one chapter… for me, anyway. 

I only hope that I wrote to your satisfaction; I think I lost a bit of skill halfway through that story just because it dragged on for so gosh darn long. Thus, there may be some word and description repetition that I'll need to weed out at a later date, after my brain's recovered.

Once again, to satisfy the interest of the curious, some story information for you all:

Why Odette? Well, the Swan Princess _is_ a favorite story of mine (got to love the tragedies), I'd recommend 'The Black Swan' to anyone wishing to get a different take on the tale. Excellent book, that is. Still, this isn't the reason why I made her so important in this chapter.

Last week I was asked by my Art teacher to go into the AP (Advanced Placement) art course. For my concentration, I decided to do prisma color fantasy portraits. I've always had a fascination with the 'animal in human form' theme and took to drawing a picture of a woman garbed as a swan for my black and whit(ish) piece. Later on, my English teacher told me that the woman I was working on looked like a lady participating in the masquerade of Venis.

This twisted my brain in the worst sort of way and I immediately began to think of those vampire-like immortal people who've been portrayed throughout history in photographs and paintings; beautiful, unchanged, and undying. I threw the idea of Odette being someone who died because of her tragic fate out the window and instead thought she was cursed to live the lonely life of immortality because her prince had failed to break the spell the sorcerer had placed on her. Now she lives throughout history as both a human and swan, helping to end tragedies like her own from occurring by aiding those in need, like Quatre. You could say she just managed to weasel her way into this story without my permission.

The ring… that took research. I'm sure you can all guess what fairytale inspired it. If you actually find yourself in the dark on that one, you'll have to wait till later chapters to understand, I guess.

Some people might be wondering why one or two gold pieces would draw so much attention. Well, this is how the money system works. 1 gold is equal to 100 silver, 1 silver is equal to 100 bronze. Thus, 1 gold is equal to 10, 000 bronze pieces. Even most nobles only carry silver and bronze, so for Trowa to have so much gold at his disposal is a sign of great wealth. Now think, he gave Septum 4 gold pieces. That's $40, 000 in their curency, Septum only gets to keep the $10, 000 meant to forgive Hilde. That means Lady Une just got $30, 000 for absolutely nothing. I guess the Winner fortune is safe for another day. XD

Thinking about it, I actually hope I got Hilde's character right… so little of her is shown in the anime that I was a little lost on how to portray her character. However, she's always struck me as a smart girl with a strong sense of morals, and although she obviously made a few mistakes in this chapter you can tell that she'll learn from them and grow. That's the sort of character I saw her as in the series and I tried to reflect that in my writing.

Some characters like Duo are a little harder, just because I'm never been a very funny person. Luckily I'm on better terms with characters like Quatre, Trowa and Heero, so this story won't be a complete failure, lol.

To the reviewers:

Thank you so much! It was nice to hear from you, especially since I didn't think I'd receive as many reviews as I did, especially since this my first fanfic.

The Yaoi Mistress: yours was the first review I received, and it was so positive that I felt like hopping around my house in joy! Thanks so much!

Misanagi: hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though I don't feel it was as well written as my prologue… lol. Hope you'll continue to read and review!

yaeko: obviously this is what's next, lol. Hope you liked it and continue reading!

Blue-Fire-Pheonix: sorry to keep you waiting and thanks for being so patient! Glad you liked the prologue!

Angl: lol, here, more! 26-27 pages of typed writing! Hope that's enough to keep you satisfied till the next chapter is done. :)

Danyu: wow, thanks for the positive feedback! XD you liked the prologue so much that I can't help but to think this chapter really isn't comparable, especially since I needed to drop a bit of the fairytale writing style that the prologue had in abundance in order to keep the story moving. Hope you liked it nonetheless and continue to read and review!

Ryukai-MJ: the chapter was even longer, ne? xD hope you liked it!

Carmina Burana: I can't thank you enoughfor telling me about the anonymous review blocker. Everything should be fixed now! Thanks for the review and I hope you continue reading. I'm going to try to get my act together for the next chapter!

MikosWish: lol, I sent you a reply awhile ago because I didn't want to post so many semi-spoilers here, but for anyone curious, yes, this story was mildly inspired by the movie 'Ever After' because, after watching it, I was finally motivated to start writing 'Portentum', which has been at the back of my brain for quite some time now. Still, you must have noticed that more fairytales then Cinderella are to be involved now, ne? Thanks for the wonderful review!

Also, thanks to Burned Vamp, Dancho, Memeal, Ubiquity and Venus4, who didn't leave reviews but put me on their alert lists. Thanks so much for reading my story, guys! Its means so much to me!

Till the next chapter! Bye bye!

Arlen Sayos


	3. Portentum Chapter 2

_Title:_ Portentum

_Author: _ArlenSayos

_Disclaimers:_ I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters in it

_Story Focus: _Quatre and Trowa

_Story Pairings:_ 3x4, 1xR, 2xH, 5xM and many more in the near future

_Chapter Pairings:_ None

_Story Warnings:_ Both yaoi and hetero relationships

_Chapter Warnings: _Random character appearances

_AN: _Yikes! Sorry for the slow update, guys! Its crunch time at school (since I'm both in 12th grade and nearing the end of another semester XX) so I've been really busy lately. I was hoping to get some more of this story completed during Spring Break, but I had to go down to Vancouver (drive, not fly) for vacation. Good news though; while down there I applied to the Art Institute of Burnaby Vancouver and… got accepted! Now all I have to do is hope that I pass this semester of school and I'll be set. XX

Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or added me to their favorite/alert lists! I've decided that I'm going to wait at _least_ until I have five reviews for each chapter before posting more, though. I tend to write so much (not on purpose though, I just never know when to end a chapter) that I just want to make sure Portentum's attracted a decently sized audience before continuing. If that doesn't happen I'll still probably keep updating, it'll just be a bit of a let down, you know? lol, I think I've become too attached to this story to just… stop.

There's an 'interlude' here to catch you all up on what's been happening in Kumania. I guess you don't have to read it, but I'd certainly suggest it. If you'd like to skip it just scroll down till you hit the first chapter break, that'll take you back to everyone in Anila.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

-Portentum-

_Chapter Two_

_-Interlude-

* * *

_

Drake never had been very talkative. On the contrary, he preferred to speak as little as possible. He didn't think himself too good to associate with those around him, nor did he believe himself to be a shy fellow that would rather spend his time twiddling his fingers in the corner of a room then talking with someone of interest. Yes, the _real_ reason Drake constantly hurled himself into the realm of perpetual silence was because of his job position. It frustrated him to the bridge of screaming insanely numerous times, due to both the heavy work load and mildly disorderly group of knights at his disposal, and at times the guard captain felt like taking his own life in order to end his seemingly never ending misery. Of course, that was before he discovered that cutting out all forms of speech, even his own, was a marvelous way of venting stress and anger.

Where had he gone wrong? Drake had started out with so much potential... He was a noble by birth, born into a long line of knights that had served Satulurain for eons. He had entered the strictest of apprenticeships at the age of eight and had become an honorary sword master at the age of fifteen. A year later he was quickly emitted into the royal guard, and after achieving an outstanding number of successful missions he was knighted. Afterwards he had quickly began to climb the ranks, becoming 1st lieutenant by the age of seventeen, and now, three years later, he not only held the seat of Third Royal Knight of Satulurain, but Captain of the Royal Guards as well.

Yet what did he find himself doing on duty half the time? He certainly wasn't outside, battling dragons and saving damsels like in the days of old. No, Drake found himself either at his desk, sorting through various papers that needed his signature or stamp of approval… or babysitting a bunch of rowdy knights. One would assume that his 1st and 2nd lieutenants would have been of some help, but, to be blunt, the two of them were far worse then the lot put together. If anything, they _provoked_ poor behavior, acting the way they did. Delio wasn't all that terrible; he tried to keep out of trouble for his own well being, but he certainly didn't do anything to keep the lesser knights and swordsmen in order either, and Corbin? His jewelry and clothes must have filled his wits with whip cream; though vastly intelligent, he sure didn't act it… the damn boy was 2nd lieutenant but behaved as though he had the authority of a whore, flirting with everyone no matter their preference… Drake included.

One should not mistake the Captain for a homophobic nitwit; he just liked his space… and his silence, which was possibly the only reason why he was taking the Lady Catherine's latest order so well. It wasn't everyday the royal prince vanished without a trace, and although the Lady Catherine was assured that her brother wasn't the victim of a kidnapping, he needed to be found, and that meant Drake could send the rest of his men all over the country while keeping those whose presence he _didn't_ mind at his side. It would be like a vacation from those that stressed him beyond his limits.

His plan started out perfectly. 1st lieutenant Delio DeLeon would take his group to the west and 2nd lieutenant Corbin Dewitt would travel to the east with his party. Drake himself would lead what was left of his men southward towards Anila. It was perfect, almost enough to make the normally stoic captain crack a smile. Almost. Too many years of being constantly showered with annoyance wouldn't allow his ever serious expression to drop even for a moment.

Unfortunately, things hadn't proceeded as smoothly as he had first intended. Before the Royal guards had even left the palace they had found themselves scarce of horses and supplies; the works of Heero Yuy, no doubt. The boy was the Second Royal Knight of Satulurain and ex-apprentice of Odin Lowe, a man so talented he had been granted First Royal Knight ranking in his youth. If Drake could blame anyone for the set back, it was Heero. It had taken them all day to locate the horses and supplies, and by the time they had finally returned everything to its normal state of being the men were too exhausted to continue with the mission.

The next day barred no better news for Drake; as he awoke and dressed in his traveling garb he discovered that many of his men had been poisoned overnight. Some had merely found themselves terribly sick the next day; others were discovered wide-eyed and dead in their beds. This time Drake could not suspect Heero Yuy of being the perpetrator; the teen was the bodyguard of the crown prince and heavily trusted by the princess, and Drake trusted Lady Catherine's word above all others. If she had faith in the boy, then Drake did as well. Still, it was quite plain to see that someone was deliberately attempting to delay the knight's leave from the castle, and Drake was none too pleased.

At this, the Captain knew that they would not only be needing to look into the prince's disappearance, but Heero's innocence as well, and that was without going through the trouble of investigating who supplied his knights with poisoned meals…

Raking a hand through his blonde hair, Drake leaned himself up against the sturdy trunk of a nearby oak tree, waiting for the arrival of his 1st lieutenant. Now that the castle was in peril taking all of the guards to locate the prince would be a risk; a risk Drake couldn't sensibly take.

Taking what was left of his men, the captain made the best decision he could under the circumstances and halved them; one group would monitor the castle while the other split a third time to travel the eastern and western roads. That left him and his lieutenants… This was _not _a position Drake wished to be in.

"Maybe you should retire." The captain of the guards averted his eyes to the narrow dirt road where a young man clad in a dark red silk shirt and back trousers walked. "I wouldn't mind moving up in the rankings."

Drake questioningly raised an eyebrow at the dark haired boy before speaking. "Are you suggesting, Corbin, that I can no longer handle the pressure?" he asked in a tone that was fairly void of all emotion; Drake didn't feel like giving his 2nd lieutenant the satisfaction of knowing he _had_ been put on edge by recent events.

"Ie," he answered in a foreign tongue that Drake had only learned bits and pieces of over the years; there was a small smile on his lips and his dark eyes were closed, as though he were truly enjoying the pleasant weather of Satulurain, "but you have to admit, fifth rank doesn't do me justice." It was true; both lieutenants were admirably skilled; so talented that they rivaled even Drake's strength. The only thing that stopped Corbin from succeeding his captain was his less extraordinary resume; he had yet to gain enough experience to challenge Drake for the spot, but Delio was getting noticeably close. Still, both lieutenants had shown little enthusiasm towards the idea of moving ranks, and Corbin's words now were no implication of his future plans. Drake found it safe to assume that he'd have his spot for a few more years.

"Delio's not finished, eh?" he asked, changing the subject, to which Corbin only nodded before twisting his golden chain necklace between his fingers.

"You gave him a fairly challenging job. He's not due to be done for another hour or two."

"And you?" he proceeded; finding little calm in how well behaved the dark haired knight was conducting himself. "If I recall correctly, your job had a greater necessity for vigilance then his, yet you return to me with remarkable speed."

"Mm." was Corbin's initial answer as he slumped against a tree of his own, hands still idly fiddling with the piece of jewelry around his neck. His eyes calmly crept open and locked on Drake, and his smile became more noticeable for a moment when he realized his captain was looking for a more 'in-depth' answer. "What can I say?" he started, closing his eyes once more, resting his head against the shaded bark of his tree. "It tears me apart to be away from your side for too long."

Obvious mockery. Drake found himself scowling absently in the face of it. "In any case, what did you learn?" It was best to stay on topic in cases like this, where Corbin took to acting as lethargic as possible, forgetting himself in the process.

Once again the boy revealed his dark brown eyes, training them on the dirt road ahead. "Well, to start with there was nothing. No poison residue in what was left of their meals, nor was there any found in their… excrements," Corbin's nose wrinkled; obviously the subject of feces was none too appealing to him, "no questionable empty vials found in the kitchen. All in all it doesn't seem as though they'd been poisoned at all, but that's what's so suspicious, isn't it?" Knowing that he need not wait for a reply from his captain before continuing, Corbin proceeded. "It's quite obvious their meals were tampered with, despite what little evidence we've uncovered. Someone clearly believes us ignorant enough to let the matter rest, and in a sense they're right. We can't do anything without proof, especially since we have that 'recover Prince Trowa' mission to deal with."

"But?" Drake asked, urging his lieutenant to continue.

"But they've overlooked the fact that the safety of the royal family is our number one priority, so even if death by poison is still speculation at this stage, we have to take the appropriate actions to ensure that Princess Catherine is safe _as well_ as Prince Trowa. Thus, under your order, Delio and I continued the investigation in secrecy." Corbin let out a bored sigh before reaching into his shirt. "While Delio took to gathering information from the servants, I continued researching our poison issue, and I believe that the knights were harmed for two reasons; the first being to jeopardize the safety of both Lady Catherine and Prince Trowa by lowering the number of guards. Now tell me, sir captain, who has motive enough to harm the royal family?"

There was a pause before Drake smirked in understanding. "They want us to think there are terrorists amongst us." Corbin nodded in agreement before letting out another sigh to show how uninterested he was in the entire matter. "If they had attempted to poison Lady Catherine directly we'd have to assume that a distant member of the royal family was trying to hasten their succession to the thrown by bumping off the competition, but the perpetrators attacked the royal guard instead, so-"

"We'd _have _to assume this was the work of terrorists." Corbin finished, holding a browning piece of parchment in his hand. Drake guessed this list was what the boy had earlier been trying to produce from his robes. "Now tell me this, dear captain, how many terrorists do _you_ know of that possess the resources to purchase a very deadly, _very_ expensive, poison that would, without a doubt, cripple the Royal Knights? Once more, the intelligence to infiltrate the castle and dispose of it into their meals?" Drake frowned, not liking this new development. Perhaps he should have taken Corbin's advice more seriously and considered retiring; events were unfurling into a matter he simply did not wish to deal with. "Drake, this is most likely a nobility instigated inside job started because someone's been monitoring Prince Trowa and knew he was on the verge of escaping. They were waiting for his separation from Kumania because they knew it would allow them the opportunity to attack the guard," for the first time that day, Corbin sighed as though he were genuinely distressed, not just 'bored', "and I hate to say it, but this list claims Heero Yuy is our number one suspect. Who else could get close enough to Prince Trowa to gauge his movements? More importantly, who else has known him long enough? Who else has befriended a kitchen hand_ with_ access to the knights' meals that mysteriously disappeared from the castle moments before the occurrence of this treachery? And, not to make matters any worse, he's got the genius and resources to pull it off. Even if the perpetrators never intended for us to find all this out, things aren't looking very good for Heero Yuy, Second Royal Knight of Satulurain."

"It couldn't be." Drake started seriously, having no real evidence to back up his claim other then his gut feeling.

"I agree," Corbin said, attempting to assure his captain that he was on his side, "there are many others who could have done this. Us, for example, we're on the list as well." The dark haired boy pointed to the flimsy bit of parchment to emphasize his point. "Reason two I haven't figured out yet, but there's obviously an underlying reason for all this chaos. However, all fingers point to Heero. Someone's deliberately trying to make a terrorist out of him to cover their own tracks."

"We just need to know who has motive enough to do such a thing." Drake breathed out dismally before applying pressure to his temple with a hand, trying to fend off a headache. "You informed Delio of this?"

Corbin scoffed, feigning insult. "Of course, that's why he isn't back yet. It takes a lot of work, flirting with all those kitchen maids for information, 'who heard what' and all that rot." He finished, waving his hand dismissively. A small, devilish smile worked its way onto the boy's face as he slipped the list back into the confinements of his robes. "Who knows, he might even have to do a bit of _overtime_ before he gets any information of interest."

Drake raised an eyebrow, not believing his 2nd lieutenant for a moment. "You joke." He said more as a blunt statement then question, training his eyes on the boy before narrowing them significantly. He didn't believe this discussion had room for such humor.

"I joke." Corbin confirmed whilst giving his head a single nod. Despite the captain's glare the boy found himself smiling mockingly at the man. Nothing made his day better then knowing he had peeved Drake off in some way, shape or form. "Still, it _is_ going to take him a while to finish up, and if he doesn't collect anything good at all we'll have to make a few critical assumptions, won't we?"

"It pains me to learn that you both hold my interrogation skills in such small regard." A new voice spoke up, catching the attention of both Drake and Corbin. "Honestly, hearing you two banter about how dreadfully long I was taking! It made me feel as though I'd fallen into the habit of completing my assignments at a snail's pace." He pouted jokingly, sneaking up to Corbin's side. "I'm not that slow, am I?"

"Slower then me, in any case." Corbin replied, as though that were some sort of answer. "What _did_ you learn in that immeasurable amount of time, Delio?" he asked, smile growing as wide as his interest.

"Nothing solid, I'm afraid." He replied, not at all let down by his own lack of information, to Drake's dismay. "However, after our meeting with Lady Catherine two nights ago a servant girl caught sight of Lord Dekim entering the Thrown Room after our departure. This is mere speculation, but I find it safe to say he was the first noble to learn of Prince Trowa's disappearance besides Lady Catherine and ourselves."

"Agreed." Drake confirmed, allowing his brain to digest this new tidbit of information. "He could be our man. Living in the castle, he knows well those who are close to the Prince. It would be no challenge at all for him to pin the murders on Heero."

"Yes," Delio replied, smiling pleasantly despite the unpleasantness of the situation, "and if Corbin is right about the poison, Dekim has the wealth, resources and influence to pull everything off in such a small amount of time."

All in agreement, the two lieutenants could do little more at this stage then wait for their captain to supply them with orders. The pause became almost unbearable as Drake took to the task of silently finding the best course of action. Delio had rested himself comfortably beside Corbin to do a bit of cloud watching in the slowing reddening sky whilst the dark haired boy once again took to fiddling with the golden chain around his neck.

"Alright." The immediate revival of the conversation caught both knights off guards and they returned their attention to Drake with mildly surprised glances. "There's little more we can do now. Lady Catherine awaits her brother's hasty return to the castle. Furthermore, we'll need Heero within our custody to confirm our assumptions, and it's immensely likely that he's playing companion to the prince on his escapade. Unfortunately, if we cannot prove his innocence…" Drake paused, not wanted to continue do to the sheer severity of his current predicament.

"What?" Corbin prodded, brutally ignoring his captain's hesitation.

Drake raised his head, turning serious eyes to his two lieutenants. "We'll accept that he's guilty and return him to Kumania for prosecution."

"You can't be serious," Corbin probed further, thin, dark eyebrows knitting together in mild confusion, "not when your instincts tell you otherwise."

"You find yourself at odds with my orders, Sir _Howler_?" Drake asked, provoking the boy's anger by mentioning the surname Corbin had dropped long ago. "Then feel free to stay behind and search out more evidence against Dekim. God knows it would be of infinite use to us."

There was a small pause, and then. "What?"

* * *

-_Portentum_-

* * *

Trowa breathed in the fresh air of an outside breeze, enjoying his freedom whilst doing very little to sport his delight. It never had been a trait of the prince to demonstrate his inner most thoughts and feelings. Growing up in a world where emotions were often viewed as a great character flaw, Trowa couldn't afford _not_ to develop a poker face; a mask of power that many admired and few could see through. Not a shard of his content was noticeable as he sat atop the roof of the Maxwell Church, gazing out into the distance at the land he had for so long been deprived of experiencing.

While the others remained downstairs, fussing over the blonde servant boy they had encountered in Anila's market, Trowa took to nursing his own wound in privacy. He had not thought the whip capable of doing so much harm, yet here he was, staring down into the torn fabric of his sleeve, watching crimson blood spill from the fresh slash in his arm with idle displeasure. It was a fairly trivial wound compared to the ones the blonde had endured, so the prince had stowed away to the roof where little attention could be placed upon him.

Even now Trowa wondered what force had caused him to intervene so recklessly. Worry for Hilde's safety was reason enough to take action, but the brown haired boy, Duo, had seen to aiding the girl long before him, giving Trowa virtually no reason to interfere. Was it then a whim of destiny? Something he had done in the spur of the moment guided by an unseen force he would never be able to comprehend? Whatever the case, Trowa had moved and taken the blow head on, and by the time he had regained control of his senses Heero had already come to his aid, knocking the beater to the ground before pilfering his whip so that no further damage could be done.

The bodyguard's lack of concern for Trowa made it fairly obvious that he was unknowing of the injury, but the prince didn't mind; Heero's services were more needed elsewhere at the moment.

Finding no more purpose in staring at the throbbing gash in his arm, the prince averted his eyes to the reddening sky lingering over the city. He had thought rumors of Anila's fast paced hours to be myth till now; a yellow toned sky at noon hour, how rare. Trowa thought it to be truly beautiful, well worth the escape from Kumania, which, in circumstances of beauty, had little to offer besides a court of decorated, overbearing nobles.

"Like the view?" the hairs on the back of Trowa's neck stood on end; he was surprised that someone had managed to sneak up on him, but refrained from allowing such a reaction to show on his features. The intruder didn't wait for an answer before he crawled out the window and painfully took a seat next to the prince. Trowa absently looked to blonde, noting that he had done a splendid job acting as though his back wasn't burning with every movement of his body, but said nothing. Obviously the boy didn't want anyone to know he was in pain, so who was Trowa to speak out?

He sighed blissfully, causing Trowa's eyes to widen in slight awe before he gracefully returned his attention to the gorgeous sky overhead. How someone could act so serene after undergoing such a beating was beyond him, and frankly, he lacked the right to question. "It's beautiful. Very, very beautiful." the blonde continued, absently answering his own question before letting out another merry sigh. "Though, I'm sure the beauty of Castle Callidora far surpasses that of this great landscape."

Trowa was not at all taken aback by the blonde's knowledge of his origin. He had suspected Hilde of slipping some such information after running into her in the marketplace, but that didn't really matter now. He was certain Heero had given the girl consent to tell the father and other monastery people of their situation to keep them from jumping to conclusions. If they gained the trust of the church people, information concerning their whereabouts would be restricted to the Maxwell's. "You're wrong." He replied simply, crouching so that he might rest his crossed arms upon his knees to better gaze out at the orange sky. "This natural splendor overshadows that of the castle in great measure, to the point where words lose the power to describe."

Much to the prince's well covered shock the fair skinned blonde chuckled almost condescendingly instead of agreeing with his majesty's word. "I'd be a fool to agree to such a declaration." He replied, closing his eyes dreamily. "You, surrounded by magnificent grandeur, find more peace in this serene sky then the castle that has sheltered you from birth till now?" Trowa quizzically met the blue-eyed boy's gaze, frowning slightly. The boy noticed the prince's displeasure, but his smile did not falter, only grew in amused wonder. "How is that?"

"It was in my being sheltered so unfairly that I happened upon my sour disposition of luxury." He replied boldly, hoping to finish the conversation so that he could, perhaps, return to enjoying the beauty of the day. The blonde sighed again, breath empty of content.

"Its sad though, isn't it?" he started, hoping to regain the prince's attention. "That war and chaos has left many a good child stranded and sparse of ease, yet you take for granted what they most desire," Once again, Trowa raised an eyebrow, his silent way of urging the younger looking man to continue. "a home to return to."

Feeling as though he had been backed into a corner, Trowa remained silent, choosing neither to confirm the blonde's deduction nor disapprove of it, for he could barely comprehend the statement even though it had been put so simply. Trowa couldn't help but to agree that he was fortunate; one did not become Crown Prince of Satulurain without experiencing a high quality life that many simple folk only longed to live. Still, he would gladly trade it in for the life of a simply nobleman any day. Yes, luxury was all grand and good, but if it came harnessed to responsibility it served as seldom more then an irritation… and itch that Trowa lacked the reach to scratch. One could suggest that he needed someone else to do it for him; someone like Catherine, who was already all too used to serving a country for the betterment of all. Prince Trowa did not possess such commitment; his soul was one of whimsical nature and not all befitting of royalty.

"It must be nice," the blonde started again, and Trowa was quickly falling under the impression that the younger man did not know how to stay silent, "to be prince, I mean." The blonde made an attempt to rest his back against the shingled roofing behind him, but stopped after realizing that such a move would put a lot of unwanted pressure on his wounds, which had yet to close up. "Unconditional love from people that you don't even call family, it just comes with the title." At first Trowa thought the boy was mocking the stance he had taken in their slight quarrel and he turned to give the blonde a cool glare, but upon meeting the boy's gaze he witnessed the boy smiling sincerely in his direction. As the boy chuckled amusedly at such a reaction Trowa simply turned away, evening out his expression yet again before letting the boy ramble on. "If only we were all so lucky, right?"

Trowa thought over the question quickly, wondering if it would be better to hold his tongue or treat the blonde with a reply. As the boy had yet to do any wrong, aside from disagreeing with the Crown Prince of Satulurain, of course, he decided on the latter. "Right." There were moments were he felt awkward, giving such short and monotone replies, and he absently looked to the blonde to see if he took offense. What a revelation it was to see the boy's smile broaden in satisfaction of his deficient response. The prince felt an odd amount of relief after having his answer accepted so freely, but could not for the sake of him understand why, nor could he begin to explain why the blonde's sudden crest fallen expression bothered him so.

"I almost forgot about it." the blonde muttered quietly, staring down at Trowa's arm. Forgetting himself for a moment, Trowa fallowed his gaze, finding his eyes trained on the wound on his arm. "The others had their backs turned to you at the time," the pale boy continued, reaching into the window for something, "but I witnessed you take injury for me and came to see you with the intent of returning the favor, to some degree." Hand returning from the cover of the window, the prince noted that the boy was now wielding a role of white medical bandages. He placed them at his side before going back to the window sill, this time retrieving a bottle of sanitizer and cotton gauze.

"Your arm." the blonde commanded seriously after wetting the gauze with alcohol. He held a hand out to Trowa, expecting him to rest his arm their so that he could clean the wound. The prince silently obeyed, inwardly taken aback by how the boy could place so much care in a complete stranger. To Trowa, it was absolutely baffling.

On contact with the alcohol the prince's wound began to sting more severely then it had when left alone; a sign that all harmful germs were being killed to keep the cut clean. Trowa smiled despite himself. This boy had probably just saved him from receiving a long scar. What would Cathy have thought upon seeing him return with such a blemish? Heads would be rolling, that was for sure. Rare was it for Trowa to receive injury without his sister placing blame on _someone_, even if it was not, in all reality, their fault. Yes, one did not want to see Princess Catherine of Satulurain upset.

"You're a far stronger man then I," The blonde started again, meeting eyes with the prince. "I've never screamed more in my life then when Duo dowsed my back with this." he chuckled light heartedly despite Trowa's lack of response to the declaration. "For a moment I thought he was trying to kill me. Alcohol poisoning." He and Trowa shared a smile, the prince closing his eyes and lowering his head in understanding. "Still, he's never done me wrong before, it would be an ill thought out choice to accuse him of such a thing now, despite my backs protests." He heaved a happy sigh before putting away the gauze and taking up the bandage. "And here you are; fresh cut on your arm and not a noise from you! I'm jealous. I wish I had your tolerance."

There was a slight pause in the one-sided conversation as the blonde took to bandaging the prince's arm, then Trowa surprised the both of them by allowing his inner thoughts a voice. "You're endurance is far stronger then mine." The blonde stopped his work, eyes shooting up to the prince's in obvious surprise. Trowa understood, after all, it was unlike him to be the 'starter' of a conversation, especially with such a forthright stranger. "Were I you and made incapable of escape, I fear I would have taken my own life in aguish long ago."

The blonde opened his mouth, but failed to speak words. With little to do but comprehend his own embarrassment at being left speechless, the boy simply fell back into his rhythm of bandaging Trowa's arm. After a moment or two more of faltering over words, he caught the prince's gaze with his deep blue eyes, ready to give a completely formulated reply. "You are kind in your words, but I find myself undeserving of your pity. The only thing that binds me to this life is bad decision and unbreakable desire to serve the land that bore and raised me." Knotting the ends of the bandages together the boy made for the window, crawling through before turning to face the prince.

As Trowa looked to him, he could tell the boy wished to say more, but what came next was something most unexpected. "I apologize. Speaking of commitment to the Crown Prince; I was too bold." He smiled slightly, obviously regretting the rashness he had spoke of; Trowa has yet to identify it. The prince had not recognized impoliteness in the boy's words… was the blonde overreacting, or had he simply interpreted the boy's speech incorrectly? "You were born to serve this country, so surely you understand me more then anyone else." The blonde looked to Trowa and offered him a half-hearted smile, and Trowa found himself retreating from the gesture by returning his attention to the crimson sky reigning over Anila.

The truth was, he didn't understand, couldn't understand, and, as shameful as it was, didn't _want_ to understand. He had stayed hidden from duty for so long that there was virtually no reason to step out of its shadow and accept it now. He would run from it until his legs gave out, and then crawl until his fingers could haul his carcass no longer. Then, under the heat of the free sun, he'd stand; chained to his cursed birthright till his body, old and exhausted and married to a woman he could not love, simply gave up on living and returned to dust.

It was truly a dismal viewpoint, but nonetheless the most sincere reflection of the prince's inner feelings, and they would change for no one. Yet, despite his overbearing confidence in his own beliefs, Trowa felt a very small twinge of pain in his chest. Was he a coward? And if so, did he care? Why should he? He was who he was, that was nothing to be ashamed of. Frowning slightly at his own hindrance, Trowa freed his mind of the devilish thoughts perturbing his act of indifference.

The blonde sighed, no doubt disappointed by the prince's lack of reply, and Trowa heard him turn to leave. For a moment, the prince was pleased, hoping a moment of solitary would allow him time to sort out his affairs, but then the blonde hesitantly began to speak. "I'm Quatre, by the way, just Quatre. I was wondering, your highness, how I was to address you now that I've been…'prompted' to service you for the next week."

A courtier would have thought such a question absurd, that 'Prince' and 'Highness' were the only acceptable names for one of Quatre's rank to address someone of his stature with, but Trowa knew better. It was, in fact, a smart question cloaked well in simplicity. Quatre had quickly realized he had, in an odd twist of fate, been tangled in with him, Hilde and Heero. In his attempt to save Hilde, Trowa had made him his tag-a-long for this 'adventure' in Anila, and for Quatre to address him as 'prince' in such a place… that was no wiser then him walking through a crowded court of Satulurain nobles uncovered while trying to lay low.

"Amongst Heero and the others you may call me Trowa," he said sternly, making sure that Quatre understood that addressing him by his birth name was in no way an implication that they were crossing formal barriers in an act of friendship; this was for safety measures only. Quatre nodded his head in understanding, looking in no way downhearted. Perhaps he had been expecting such treatment. "In public, if you must call me anything, call me Noname."

Once again the boy nodded, this time adding a formal bow before he retreated for the doorway of what Trowa assumed to be Duo's room after taking in the scarce memorabilia decorating its walls. While placing a pale hand on the frame of the now opened wooden door, the blonde turned to face the prince, offering him a remarkably sincere smile for someone who had just come out of a conversation that had ended on rather foul terms. "I hope your arm heals soon." And with that, he was gone.

Trowa could only stare blankly at the empty space the boy had disappeared through before he once again returned his attention to the sky. He wouldn't be able to linger on the shackled rooftop of the Maxwell house for much longer, not when lunch was no doubt almost on the table. The prince could smell the sent of seasoned chicken roasting over a fire in the air; it had ventured up the staircase and through the open door of Duo's room, passing through the place where the blonde had once stood before reaching Trowa's nostrils. The sent was accompanied by the smell of buttered corn and fresh garden peppers. Fine food, that's what it was; Trowa had caught the same aromas off of Hilde's kitchen clothes numerous times before, this was no different.

As if on cue a loud voice hollered from below. "Hey, you, the escapee! Lunch is ready, high tail it down here and grab yourself a plate of holy goodness!" It was the long haired boy summoning him to the table… in a most indecorous way.

Allowing himself a small, barely visible smile when a female attempted to hush him up, saying, "Duo, that is not the way you address one of royal blood!" in a quiet voice that was just loud enough for the prince to hear, Trowa elegantly climbed back through the window and made his way for the stairs.

"What?" Duo replied, making no attempt to lower the volume of his voice. "We invite this guy into the sanctuary of our home out of the kindness of our hearts and _still_ have to address him as though he's got a stick permanently lodged up his ass? Oh the humanity!"

"Duo!" the same woman, Sister Helen, if Trowa recalled correctly, started again, sending the boy an almost sorrowful, disapproving look as the boy continued on.

"'Ain't nothing prim and proper to a guy running away from his problems, Sister, he won't mind!" Duo proceeded cockily, and Trowa stopped in his tracks. Was… this what the ingrate thought of him? Poker face in place even now, the prince frowned mentally at the boy's judgment on his character; who was he to sum up his being by what he had seen so far? And had he not saved this boy's comrade? How could he accuse him of being a coward after he not only got Quatre away from his previous owners, but ensured his safe travel to the Maxwell's haven as well?

"Duo!" a new voice protested, and Trowa raised a single think eyebrow in slight awe. This was… Quatre's voice. "You should know better then to draw such conclusions under so little evidence!" the sound of plates being laid out, and then he heard Hilde's voice, chattering adamantly to a silent fellow whom he could only assume to be Heero as Quatre continued his protests. "After all," his voice now took on a bitter note that confused Trowa greatly. He had taken the boy to be such a… happy person. What was this new emotion? "You can't understand someone simply by judging them under the circumstances of which you've come to meet them."

A small, understanding silence filled the room, calm enough to silence even Duo's seemingly never ending chatter. As Trowa peered around the corner, he saw that the brunette smile sympathetically before nodding his agreement, and the arrangement of dinner plates continued in a serene silence.

The prince did not go unnoticed for long. Father Maxwell's keen, though aged, eyes found his form before the present 'youngsters' even knew he was there, and he dutifully ushered Trowa into a chair. The prince was most understanding of this decorum and took his seat without thanks; it was almost unheard of for one of royal birth to thank someone of such a low rank, even if that person was a man of god, and though Trowa wished to be free of his royal bonds, he found some traditions harder to break then others. Or rather, he preferred to be one up over the person next to him then one below.

It was a fear of the prince's to be trampled upon; to be under the thumb of someone else. It was not so much the social rankings that made the prince who he was as much as it was his own ideal that in order to survive in the world, either as a prince or a commoner, one needs to wear their backbone on the cuff of their sleeve and thus prove they were worthy of respect.

To Trowa's knowledge, Heero wasn't much different, yet the two were far from being a paradox. Though the bodyguard possessed a noticeable tendency to assert his authority in both severe and moderate situations, he was one of the kindest people Trowa knew. This aspect of the knight was often overlooked because of the boy's rather harsh physical exterior, but he was always courteous to soft hearted women like Hilde, and would often play a hand in helping those in need. Even now, as he took a seat at the Maxwell's humble dinner table, he gave a gracious nod to both the Father and Sister Helen. He did not grace them with a smile, though. That small glimmer of gratitude was reserved for Hilde, whom he'd known had aided in the preparation of dinner.

Heero was often considered to be perfect among the people that knew him best, and even among a small faction that simply admired his more noticeable qualities. Trowa often wondered how anyone could balance civility and authority as well as this 'perfect soldier', but he assumed it had something to do with knight duties. To achieve such a high and desirable ranking, one must not only be skilled with the sword, but possess desirable entertainment skills as well so that they can keep the courtiers entertained during honorable festivities. They were to dance, have intriguing mannerisms, and socialize.

Ah, Trowa cracked a slight mental smile at that. Heero had two sides, and neither of them were good at conversation. Heero was so forward with his opinions that he often found himself unintentionally enraging the court nobles. Though it was true that the bodyguard didn't hold their views of him in high regarded, he had accepted that their approval was needed for him to climb in the knight rankings and thus fell into a silence when confronted with conversation.

Better to be silent, then to offend; better to speak the truth when necessary then to sputter off lies. This was Heero's unspoken motto.

"Umm… Trowa?" Hilde prompted releasing the prince from his distracting thoughts. "You alright there?" Trowa gave the girl a single nod before elegantly picking away at his meal. Now assured that the crown prince of Satulurain wasn't flaking out, the rest of the table continued to dig into their plates of mouth watering food.

While Hilde switched between swapping cooking recipes Sister Helen and exchanging witty banter with Duo, Heero remained silent, adamantly listening to Father Maxwell's historical monologue of Anila. During all this Trowa mostly kept to himself, mind vacant of all thoughts aside from the small suspicion that he was being watched.

Looking up from his plate for the first time since he began his meal, the prince met eyes with Quatre, who was giving him what Trowa could only identify as an analyzing glance from across the circular table. It was neither harsh nor thoughtful, and although unnerving Trowa could not claim it to be impolite, for there was a kindness in the boy's eyes that made him suspiciously innocent of ulterior motives. The prince knew he character was being depicted by this boy, yet he oddly at ease despite the circumstances upon which he had come to meet eyes with this boy.

After a small moment of further examination, Quatre finally came to realize that he was looking directly into the prince's eyes… and that this was most rude of a commoner. He simply broadened his smile before wordlessly averting his gaze back to his meal.

Not wanting to think harder on the subject of being stared at so intently, Trowa followed suit, devouring his meal while blackening his mind to keep thoughts of troublesome nature at bay.

* * *

-_To be continued_-

* * *

_AN:_ And so ends another chapter! I hope it was a little thought provoking… I know it must have been terribly confusing in some parts, but I'm hoping that can be blamed on the complexity of all the Gundam Wing boys. lol, they're all so troubled that its really hard to place their thoughts characteristics for this sort of story… that's the good thing about fanfiction though, isn't it? You get full rights to _manipulate_ characters and make them do whatever the hell you want 'em too!

I hope no one complains about how I portrayed Heero through Trowa's mental interpretation. Honestly, I've never seen Heero as a bad guy. Sure, he's a little psycho when in the midst of completing a mission and a hard ass when the time calls for it, but I've always admired how tough-guys like Heero and Trowa treat the GW ladies (even the bad ones) throughout the series. They're sure polite! Even Wufei has his moments (refer to how he behaves around Sally Po in Episode Zero if you don't believe me!)

And speaking of him, I know some people are wondering where he is. XX I planned to give him an important role in all this because he is one of my favorite characters (he amuses me!) but by doing that I've accidentally put off his appearance from probably a few more chapters… depending on whether I write more or less then what I'm currently putting out. XX

So for those who did read the interlude, I hope you liked it. All characters are figments of my imagination that I had to make up on the spot JUST to write all that… it really needed to be done, though. You'd never understand the 'eventual plot' if it weren't for Drake, Corbin and Delio's little meeting. What's going to happen to Corbin? You'll just have to wait and see!

If you'd like to see more of these three, let me know in your feedback. Though background characters, they have fairly significant roles in Portentum, so it would be better if people liked them rather then despised them (though I'm sure they're going to have their moments).

Wow, this was really only a 'thinking' chapter, wasn't it? Hope it didn't bore all of you too badly. Just think of… um… 'the calm before the storm' (I don't know if I worded that correctly). Things will definitely heat up, I just don't want to rush things along and ruin the story.

Thanks one more time to all who read and reviewed! I love 'yah so much!

Till chapter two!

Arlen Sayos


End file.
